Bad Company
by SuperWhoLockness
Summary: Sam's depressed and his father's near constant physical and verbal abuse doesn't help it. Can Dean save his brother before Sam tries to find another way out of the Hell that he's living on Earth? No slash.
1. Training Day

**A/N: This is my first Supernatural fanfic so please be kind to me! You've probably heard this a million times but reviews really are magic and they make me happy so please review my chapters and you'll receive more. **

**Full summary**: Sam has severe depression and his father's physical and verbal abuse doesn't help matters none. He's frustrated that he can't live up to his father's expectations. Dean is the only person who can save him from his own inner demons.

**Dean is 22 and Sam is 18, just for a point of reference. Also, I'm not really writing from any point of the episodes or anything. I'm aware that Sam didn't see Lucifer at 16 but that's where the fiction part comes in so try to enjoy it.**

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Sam Winchester tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the rain tap on the window relentlessly, the weather matching his current mood. He put his arm across his forehead, a dark invisible cloud looming over him as the voices whispered cruel words in his head.

_You'll never be good enough… your own father even told you how worthless you really are. Dean can't stand you. Everyone is better off without you, Sam…_

Sam closed his eyes and tightened his jaw, waiting for the voices to dissipate but they only seemed to get louder. He finally forced himself to get up out of the bed as quietly as he could and then walked into the bathroom, half pulling it closed so he wouldn't wake up his brother. He turned on the faucet and slashed cold water on his face, placing his hands on either side of the sink.

_Take Dean's shaving razor right now and slit your own throat. Everyone wouldn't even mind. You're the useless brother…_

"Shut up… shut up… shut up…" Sam ordered under his breath.

Suddenly he heard a throat clear at the door and saw his brother peeking in worriedly at him. "You all right there, Sammy?"

Sam jumped slightly and nodded, swallowing hard as he turned to look at his brother. "Uhh, yeah… umm… why?"

Dean leaned against the door and shrugged. "Well, it's not every day you hear your brother telling an invisible person to shut up. Are you… seeing ol' Lucifer again?"

Sam shook his head and bit his lip. "No, nothing like that. I'm fine, I guess I'm just overtired from training, you know?"

Dean gave his brother a skeptical look but nodded once before he looked at him thoughtfully. "Sucks that you'll be training with Dad again today. Hey, what do you say afterwards if we go out to eat and just talk?"

Sam felt anything but hungry but he nodded anyway, feeling like it'd be good to get away from John for awhile. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Dean smirked. "Great, I'm out. Dad's got me going out to check out a job, see how bad the situation is so I'll see you later."

He turned to leave when Sam felt a fearful pang in his stomach. He'd be alone with his father. He walked out where Dean was in the bedroom getting dressed and hesitantly rubbed his neck with his hand. When he couldn't find the courage to speak, Dean looked up at him, his eyebrows raised.

"Do you want me to put on a show for you or did you want to ask me something?"

"Just… umm… what time are you going to be back by, do you figure?" Sam asked curiously, hoping Dean wouldn't be gone too long. At least when he was around, Sam was safe.

"I have no freakin' clue, man. I'm hoping I'll be back by noon."

Sam shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Did… you need backup or anything? I can come if you need me to."

Dean got dressed in his suit and grabbed his wallet. "Nice try, Sam but you need to stay here and train with Dad. Build up some muscle in those weak arms!" he teased before he patted him on his shoulder and smirked.

Sam just nodded and ran his hands through his hair, a small part of him wanting to fall down at Dean's feet and beg him not to leave him alone with their father. He knew that he would just be even weaker than he already was if he did that and Dean would probably laugh at him. He looked down at the floor and then looked up again to see his brother walk over to him, his teasing gone and his serious face on.

"Do you need me to stay? Is it a bad day for you, Sam?"

He hadn't expected Dean to offer this at all and he swallowed hard, searching his face. Genuine concern was laced in his eyes and it was times like these when he was grateful that he hadn't hit his depression from his brother.

"No, I mean… it is a bad day but… you need to go and check things out. If people are in trouble, then they come first. I'll be okay," Sam promised, knowing that was a lie as soon as the words came out of his mouth.

He didn't want to be selfish when there were actual monsters hurting innocent people out there. Sam knew that business came first, and then family, that was his father's slogan for them. However, it felt like maybe it was different for Dean. Maybe he truly felt like family came first, and then business. Either way, it didn't matter as long as they were under their father's roof.

"Okay, Sam but if you need me… you better call me. I'm here for you." Dean looked his brother in the eye, his voice firm.

Sam felt pathetic standing next to older, strong Dean. He really was the weakest link in the Winchester family chain. He was just holding them all back and if Dean got killed by a monster because his mind was on Sam, then he didn't think he would ever forgive himself, and he knew that his father wouldn't either.

"Thanks, Dean… really, it means a lot. Go and check it all out and then come back in one piece and then we can hang out," Sam attempted to reassure him.

Dean nodded again and then grabbed his phone before finally leaving the small cottage where they were staying for now. Sam stood in the empty room, feeling Depression hanging over here still. After what felt like hours, he forced himself to go into the kitchen and at least pour himself some juice. He stiffened when he entered the room to find his father pouring himself half a tumbler glass of whiskey.

"A bit early for alcohol, isn't it?" Sam asked bravely, unable to stop feeling resentment towards his father, no matter how scared he made him.

John glanced up at him and grunted in response before he took a long drink. "Something you want, Sam?"

Suddenly, something snapped inside him and he turned to look at him. "Why didn't you go with Dean? You usually back him up on these things…"

His father sat back in his chair and the corners of his mouth revealed the identical smirk Dean always gave him. "Because I'm stuck here having to train you, son. Are you ready?"

Sam's depression made him feel apathetic to train at all but he figured the sooner they started, the sooner Sam could be free to do his own thing. He nodded and walked outside in the rain as it drizzled down. He watched his father come out with his Colt Revolver and place three bullets in it before spinning it and slamming it closed again. Something uneasy grew in Sam as he watched his father's expressionless face, suddenly feeling sick.

"You're going to try and get this gun away from me, Sam. Understand? You need to defend yourself."

"Y-Yes, sir…" He got into position and sidestepped his father who did the same. He bit his lip before he tried to take out his father's legs and grab his wrist. As he attempted this, his father slid out of the way all too quickly and took Sam's arm and positioned it awkwardly behind him and upwards. The discomfort of this unusual position sent Sam to his knees and he groaned in pain, grimacing as he closed his eyes.

"Nice try, but you're going to have to be a lot faster than that, Sam! Try and get out of this position now…" his father ordered sternly.

Sam let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the pain he was feeling in his shoulder and back. He tried to think quickly but his depression was blocking his logic.

_You're going to die if you ever get into a position like this because you're weak and pathetic. You're monster meat. It's a good thing you didn't go with Dean; even if he does need help, you'd be utterly incompetent..._

The frustration of his negative thoughts made adrenaline pump through his blood and he reacted without a second thought. Before he even realized what he did, he found himself free enough to heel palm his father in the face hard and kick his shin. He thought his motions had been quick enough but John let out a loud yell and sent Sam to the ground, aiming the gun at his head and panting hard.

"That's not how hunters fight, son. That's weak fighting. You'd be dead in an instant… if you were smart, you would've brought a knife or your own gun with you to practice," John scowled, the gun still in his hand.

Sam swallowed hard, looked into the barrel nervously and then looking at his father. "I'm sorry, I forgot."

His father let out a sickening laugh just before he hit him with the barrel of the gun, causing cuts to appear on Sam's face just before knocking him over. Then, he felt himself being kicked hard in the ribs.

"I wish I had had the common sense to dump you somewhere else when you were younger… there's something defected with you, Sam. You can blame it on the depression but you're just weak and pathetic! I can hardly believe you and Dean are even brothers! He's much stronger than you are. Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy!"

Sam felt tears trailing down his face now, feeling ashamed to be crying in front of his father like this. He had already been feeling low but John's cruel words just sent him sinking deeper and deeper.

"You're crying? You've got to be kidding me! Hunters don't cry!" John yelled at Sam, kicking him again near his chest this time before hitting him in the face with the cold metal of the gun once more. "Stop that right now! You're the sorriest excuse for a son if I've ever seen one!"

Sam wiped his nose on his sleep and swallowed a sob, making himself get back on his knees to look up at his father but regretting it instantly when he saw the sheer disappointment in his eyes. "I-I'm sorry… I'm so s-sorry, Dad…"

"Not good enough. Sorry doesn't bring back your mother, does it?" John walked closer over to Sam now and pressed the gun against his forehead before he cocked it.

Sam felt a terror he never knew before. He had fought monsters side by side with Dean but somehow, this fear felt greater, more terrible than he's ever known. He closed his eyes and felt his whole body start to tremble. "Please… p-please no… I'll be b-better! I p-promise… please…"

_Click._

Sam dared to look up at his father now. He had pulled the trigger but no bullet had come out. It had been empty, at least that particular one. It was total luck that he hadn't been shot dead right there; and they both knew it. His father didn't seem the least bit regretful of his actions as he glared at Sam.

"Go get cleaned up. Training's done! I can't even look at you, son!" his father growled, clicking the safety back in place and placing the gun back into his jeans just before he started back towards the house.

Sam sunk into the ground, feeling the rain hitting him and soaking him quickly. He could hardly believe what had just happened; his father had played Russian roulette with his youngest son and made himself believe it was part of his training. He felt a numbness wash over him as the rain camouflaged his tears on his face. He looked around him, wishing that there had been witnesses to John's attempted murder, but alas; there were none he could see. He took a deep breath and finally made himself limp back into the house.

"Don't you even think about telling Dean about our Training session today, Sam… he won't believe you anyway."

Sam closed his eyes tightly, trying not to let his father see him crying, both out of pain and out of fear. He just nodded and limped into the bathroom he shared with Dean in their bedroom and took off his clothes. He let the hot water wash away his chill from being outside, along with the dirt from outside, replacing it with warmth again.

Once he got out of the shower, he wiped the mirror to shave and felt a lump in his throat when he saw the bruises that were visible on his chest from where his father had kicked him. He chewed on his lower lip for a bit before he finally shaved and got dressed into jeans and a t-shirt. Sam couldn't let Dean see what their father had done. It didn't matter how old they were, it wasn't like he could run away from his home. Not with the job they had.

Sam grabbed his laptop and lay on his back on the bed, clearing his throat casually before he winced in pain. The unhealthy whirling sound of the laptop drowned out the voices that were spinning webs in his head again, but once it stopped, they were back again.

_You should've grabbed the gun from your father and offed yourself right then and there. You would've been able to shoot yourself eventually. Now Dean has to put up with your useless self and your father has to look at you in shame every day. You're an embarrassment._

Sam clenched his jaw and moved over to Dean's side of the bed where he always kept bottles of whiskey by the bedside table. He looked around and carefully grabbed one of the already opened bottles and took a long pull from it, letting the alcohol mix with his thoughts and drown them. He stopped when he could no longer hear the Depression whispering to him. He put it back where he found it and then focused his attention on researching the events that were happening where Dean went to investigate.

"Hey there, Sammy… what are you looking at?"

Sam glanced up to see his brother. He was slightly taken back but composed himself as quickly as his tipsy self would allow. "Just seeing what I can find about recent attacks… how did you make out?"

Dean undid his tie and took his suit off to slip into more comfortable clothes. "Not a whole lot. No one saw the monster, obviously, because if they did, they'd end up monster meat. All I found out was that it's attacked twice in three days and it's pretty much just killing anyone in the woods."

Sam scratched his head to try and come up with answers but the alcohol clouded his logic. "What do you think it is? New Jersey Devil maybe?"

Dean looked thoughtful for a moment but then shook his head. "I might agree with that if we were actually in New Jersey but we're in Connecticut, Sam. I was thinking maybe it was Yellow Eyes again but there's no burger joints anywhere in town. Wanna take another stab in the dark?"

Sam sighed and then winced as he tried to make himself comfortable on the bed. He felt pain shooting throughout his chest. "What about… a wendigo?"

Dean didn't miss his brother's flinching in pain and eyed him suspiciously. "I…I don't think so. Even with wendigos, there were at least one or two people who witnessed their friends get eaten and made it out. This thing, whatever it is, is out for blood and isn't interested in witnesses. Hey man, are you alright?"

Sam glanced up at him and saw concern in his eyes. "Yeah, just… just the training with Dad earlier, it was hard on me. You know, I'm just out of shape. Rusty and all that. What about other demons? Like the ones we know personally?" he suggested, trying to change the subject.

Dean ran a hand through his hand and shrugged, sitting down on the bed beside Sam. "I thought about that too, but I think it was Crowley or Lucifer, they'd come to one of us and brag about it. I think I'm going to need you to come with me tomorrow to help me find whatever it is and bring it down. Do you think you'll be up for it?"

Sam internally groaned. Fighting a mystery monster with bruises and Depression at an all time high would be a Hell he'd never been to before. He searched Dean's eyes and saw his desperation though. There was no way he could not back his brother up. "Yeah, of course. Whatever you need me to do, I'm there to help."

Dean nodded and smiled. "Good. I'm going to go talk to Dad and bring him up to speed. Then we can go out and grab a bite."

Sam nodded in acknowledgement and went back to his screen. Hiding his bruises from his brother was going to be more difficult than he thought, especially when they had no qualms about changing in front of the other. He suddenly jumped when he heard yelling coming from the living area where his father and Dean were.

"Just leave it alone, Dean! I'm taking care of it!"

"Oh yeah, Dad! You're doing a fantastic job of taking care of it! People are dying and you're sitting in here on your ass drinking!" Dean yelled back.

Sam felt uncomfortable now as fear swelled inside him. He rarely heard Dean talk back to their father like that. He shut down his laptop and limped over to the doorway to listen, feeling like a young child listening to their parents fight.

"You know better than to talk to me like that, son! I know people are dying and it's difficult but you need to trust me! I have other hunters up there working on the case! They're going to find the son of a bitch and kill it so just leave the case alone now… do you understand me?"

"Oh yeah," Dean replied coldly. "I understand. I understand that you just don't give a damn about anyone but your own self!" He entered the bedroom now and grabbed his jacket before glancing over at Sam. "Grab your coat, Sammy. We're going out to lunch now."

Sam nodded and grabbed his wallet and heavy jacket before following his older brother out of the small cabin and into the black Impala.


	2. My Father's Gun

**A/N:**** Thank you muchly for your reviews and for following me! I didn't expect to get anything on this story.**

Also, I really apologize for how short this chapter is. It's a busy day, being Christmas Eve and all... I'll try and make up for it in the next chapter.  


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Sam shifted in his seat as the two brothers sat in silence, Dean driving them towards the semi local café place. The only sound in the car was Highway To Hell playing on the 8-track player. Well the song was right; Sam really did feel like he was on the highway to Hell with their father watching their near every move at wherever they decided to call home temporarily. He was surprised when Dean shut it off now and sighed heavily before he rubbed his temples.

"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked, looking over at him.

His brother looked back over at Sam and smirked without humor. "Peachy. I just can't believe he's ignoring this case when there are people out there that need us the most right now…"

Sam chewed on his bottom lip and felt obligated to stand up for his father, mostly out of fear of punishment than actual loyalty and love. "He did say there are other hunters looking at the case so it's not like it's been completely abandoned or anything, man. He probably just didn't want his only sons to fight this thing and fail."

Dean looked at him as if he had grown three extra heads and shook his head. "No, Sammy… he just wants to be the martyr by telling us it's too dangerous. How many other cases have we been on where we almost did end up dead? Answer me that."

Sam knew that his brother was right and he sighed, nodding. "A lot."

"That's right! Too damn many, but we somehow always made it out by the skin of our teeth, and now he wants to tell us to back off of it… we're just pawns in his little checkers game…."

Sam couldn't help but chuckle and smile now. "Chess, chess is the game you're looking for…" When his brother looked at him incredulously, the younger brother continued. "There are pawns in a chess game, not checkers."

Dean scoffed and shrugged. "Well, whatever, man. My point is that I'm sick of him telling us what hunts we can and can't go on. Why does he get to deem what ones are fine to stick our necks out for and what ones aren't? That's not what hunting is about anyway. It's about saving innocent people, am I right, Sam?"

Sam was surprised to hear his brother talk so negatively about John. Growing up together, he only heard him say "yes, sir" or "no, sir" without any rebelling or defiance. It was a nice change to see Dean finally going against their father, maybe even seeing him for the person he really was finally.

He looked over at his brother and nodded. "You're right, Dean. It is about saving the innocent people. But what exactly do you want to do? Don't get me wrong; I'm on your side completely in this but we're all living together and he can still find us. He always does. It's not like we can split from him."

Dean was quiet for awhile, lost in thought as he turned into the parking lot and shut the engine off. "We're old enough to do this on our own, without him. We can hunt like the best of them and watch each others' backs. Would you back me up if I told him what I wanna do?"

Sam looked apprehensive now; Dean's plan was a good one and Sam knew they needed to break off of their father but he was more scared how John would take it. What would he do to try and stop them? Dean might be John's favorite son but he wondered if he would even hesitate to shoot at Sam to stop him.

"I'm… behind you a hundred and ten percent, Dean, but you're going to need to back me up too. I'll help you go through with whatever the plan is but being the youngest, I don't think he's going to take it well if I split with you," Sam carefully spoke.

He wanted nothing more than to break down right there in the Impala and confess what their father was doing to him, the physical abuse that Sam had been lying about for years, and the verbal abuse that destroyed him inside. Sure, Dean knew that his little brother was depressed but he didn't knew the extent of it, and who or what had even caused it in the first place. Plus, he was terrified his brother wouldn't believe it even happened. Maybe he'd think Sam was a martyr, just like John, and try to abandon him too. This thought was what made him think twice about telling Dean everything.

He searched his brother's face and saw a slight confusion in his eyes but he nodded firmly. "Always, man. I'll back your Green Giant ass to the freaking gates of Hell, without hesitation."

Sam felt relieved and nodded in both acknowledgement and thanks. "Good then."

An awkward silence hung inside the car until Dean cleared his throat and smirked again. "Great, enough of this chick flick moment. Let's go grab some grub."

Sam laughed softly and then got out of the car before he headed towards the café with his brother. Once inside, they both grabbed sandwiches for lunch and sat down at a booth table, eating quietly and occasionally exchanging small talk.

Just then, the two brothers heard Dean's cell phone ring. They exchanged nervous glances and Sam watched as he answered it and then put it on speakerphone.

"Yeah?" Dean greeted coldly, placing it between them on the table so Sam could hear it too.

"Stop acting like petulant children and come home, right now, damnit!"

"We will as soon as you stop acting like you own us! We're old enough and we can decide what's best for ourselves. We're coming home, getting our things, and then Sammy and me are hitting the road," Dean said sternly.

Heavy sigh from John's end, and then his voice. "If you say so, Dean. Just come home so we can talk about this first."

It was at this point when Dean hung up. He looked at Sam who had fear in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Sam swallowed hard. He hadn't even thought about getting their clothes. He thought that they were leaving right here. They had their weapons in the trunk; Sam naively figured that'd be enough. "We're going back home…"

"Of course we are, Sam. Why do you think I asked if we had each other's backs?" Dean looked bewildered. "You're still with me on this, right? Because if you're deciding to back out now, you better let me know."

Sam shook his head quickly. "No, Dean… I'm still behind you. Let's just… get this over and done with."

His brother nodded and put a tip down on the table before getting up and leading Sam back to the car. As they neared the cabin, Sam's anxiety grew more and more the closer they came. Once they got there, John was out front waiting for them, his hands in his pockets but standing tall.

Dean turned to Sam. "Okay, here's the plan. We get in there, get our shit, and then we're leaving. Any questions?" When Sam shook his head, Dean continued. "Good, let's do this."

The brothers got out of the Impala simultaneously and walked past their father before walking inside towards their respective room, John at their heels.

"You can't honestly tell me that you both are planning to leave right now…" He spoke in disbelief.

Dean looked up as he started to stuff his clothes into his suitcase and looked over at him. "We are, Dad. It's not like we're in the middle of a case anyway, right? What difference does it make then?"

John looked at them coldly, Sam ignoring John's eyes as he also filled his suitcase with his laptop and clothes. "You're making a big mistake, boys. You're going to regret doing this one day!"

"The only regret we have is not doing this sooner…" Dean replied icily, staring their father down.

John looked helplessly at them both for a long time, just watching them back before he strut towards Sam and looked at him sternly. "Well I'm so glad that you're deciding to stay, Sam…" John spoke with an air of threat in his voice.

Sam knew what this meant and he froze, feeling shivers running down his spine. Dean looked at him uncertaintly but relaxed slightly when he saw that his brother was still trying to pack as well. "N-No, Dad… I'm sorry, but I'm going with Dean."

"Like hell you are!" John growled now, grabbing Sam's arm tightly and pulling him aside.

Dean instinctively stormed over to their father and looked at him with fire in his eyes. "Like hell he's staying here with you if you're going to act like this! The alcohol is making you just like your father! He's not going to stay here so you can treat him like property!"

John looked over at Sam and he could tell his father was thinking he told Dean about all the abuse. He just shook his head in a silent answer but he could tell his father didn't believe him. He suddenly grabbed the Revolver from his jeans and aimed it at Dean.

"You're going to get in that car and drive as far away as you can, but Sam's staying here with me, Dean. You can't both just pick up and take off and leave me here to rot. If I get a case, then I'm going to need some backup and Sam still needs to finish his training."

Dean held up his hands in surrender, not having his own on him at this moment. Sam saw the utter regret and anguish on his face and felt like this was the end of both of them. "Look at you! You're aiming a gun at your own son! Sam's not staying here with you!"

John turned the safety off and then cocked the gun, still aiming it at Dean. "Get out, son. This is your final warning or so help me God, I _will_ shoot you. Maybe not to kill but you'll be crutches for awhile."

Sam tried to think quickly, reading Dean's frustrated expression on his face. He had to get his brother's back or else John was going to shoot him. At least Dean could see their father's true colors right now. Maybe after this, he would believe him. Sam swallowed hard before he suddenly kicked John's shin, causing him to pull the trigger but everything happened so fast that all he could think about was taking their father out and taking his gun.

He felt a hard backhand hit his face hard and the taste of metallic filled his mouth. Sam crawled over now and kicked the gun away from his father, sending it towards Dean who picked it up and pointed it towards their father.

"Don't you come near us, you son of a bitch…" he threatened, his lips trembling out of anger but his hands still and focused. "Sammy, you alright?"

Sam spit out the blood in his mouth but nodded, grabbing both their suitcases in his hands. "Yeah, I'm okay. Let's just go."

Dean didn't turn his back on John, not putting down the Revolver or giving it back as he let Sam walk out of the room first. "Don't you dare even try to find us because if you do, you won't be our father much longer, I can guarantee you that."

"Dean! Stop this! I'm not a monster… put the damn gun down now!" John yelled at him, his hands up in surrender now.

Dean shook his head and finally dropped his anger down a notch as he followed Sam out. "No way in Hell. Sorry, Dad but this will probably be the last time you see us and if you ever hurt Sam again, then I won't even hesitate in shooting you down, and I will shoot to kill, father or not."

John looked more frustrated than angry and then smirked the same smirk Dean also had, sending more chills on Sam's body. "Just don't forget who the real enemy is, Dean. And good luck with Sam backing you up on hunts; he's not as strong as you think he is. You're making an incredible mistake."

"The only mistake I've made is not leaving you sooner!" With that, Dean finally turned around and lead his brother back to the car and got in, both their suitcases in the backseat.

Sam watched their father fade in his side view mirror as they drove out of the driveway and down the road, disappearing from sight soon enough. He felt the car accelerate above the speed limit as Dean drove.

"Come on, Dean… slow down a bit or we're going to get pulled over."

"I can't believe that son of a bitch. He actually had the nerve to go off and hit you like that. I don't care if he hits me but he went too far," Dean snarled, his voice deep and cold.

Sam watched as the houses whipped before his eyes and for the first time being with his brother, he felt fear of what might happen to them if he didn't calm his brother down. "I understand what you mean but it's done and over with now, Dean! Slow the car down! Think about it, we have a shitload of guns in the trunk and if we get pulled over, it's not going to look good for us! Now slow it down"

His brother's reality seemed to bring Dean back down from his rage and he took his foot slightly off the gas pedal, bringing the car back down to the speed limit. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair before he looked over at Sam who had blood at the corner of his mouth. With one eye and hand on the road, Dean leaned across Sam and popped the glove compartment before focusing back on the road.

"Go in there. There should be a clean rag in there somewhere. Clean yourself up, man…" he spoke not unkindly.

Sam grabbed what he needed and closed the glove compartment before he dabbed at his mouth, making sure he didn't have any more blood visible. He must have bit his lip hard on accident when their father had struck him down. He felt a slight painful tinge on his lip and he held the clean rag on it to help it stop bleeding.

"I gotta tell you, Sammy… there was a moment back there when I didn't know if you really did have my back but you sure as hell proved me wrong," Dean added a few minutes later.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, as if he just realized he was safe from his father for good now. He looked in his brother in awe for several moments before speaking. "Of course I had your back, Dean. You're my brother. We need to stick together. You saved me from Dad…"

Dean shook his head and chuckled. "From where I was standing, I saw you save yourself. I just grabbed the gun."

Sam half smiled at his brother; Dean really had no idea what Sam had meant but maybe now wasn't the right time to drop the years-of-abuse bombshell. He knew where they were going and the last thing Dean needed was to be distracted. After all, they had innocent people to save.


	3. Black Dog

**A/N:**** I can't believe how many people are following me right now. Thanks everyone! Your excitement for this story keeps me writing it! **

**Please do keep feeding me reviews! Reviews are magic and help me write faster!**

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"So how far away is it, exactly? I'm getting a little Impala fever," Sam half joked, looking out the window.

Dean smirked and pointed to a sign. "Topeka, Kansas – 58 miles. We have at least another hour so might as well make yourself comfortable, baby brother."

Sam let out a long, exasperated sigh and ran his hands through his hair. "Damn it… can we at least stop somewhere and get some coffee, Dean?"

The older brother shook his head. "Sorry, Sammy. No can do. We need to figure out what the hell is attacking these people and help them. Just because we're not with Dad anymore doesn't mean that we're not going to go AWOL and not help innocent people. It's still our job, and it'll always be our job until the day we die! So get comfortable, take a nap, and shut the hell up."

Sammy rolled his eyes and sunk down in the passenger seat before he placed his head on the cold window and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before he started dreaming about their father.

"_You can't help Dean, Sam. You're more worthless than you ever thought. You can't even fight. You'll lose every time…"_

_A John-shaped figure took steps towards him, a shotgun in his hand. Dream Sam looked at him for a minute and felt fear fill up his entire being. "No, stop saying that! I can fight! I will fight… for myself, for my brother…"_

_Suddenly, Dream John hit Dream Sam with the butt of his shotgun, or maybe this wasn't just a dream; maybe this was a memory. It was difficult for him to differentiate right now. His real life and his nightmares seemed to blend together. _

"_Who are you trying to kid, son? You couldn't save yourself all those times I pinned you against the damn well, crushing you until you almost passed out. You couldn't save Dean on all those hunts you went on… I had to save him. You were absolutely worthless! You didn't do a damn thing… the only successful thing you did was let Lucifer inside you…"_

_Dream Sam shook his head, not wanting to believe his uselessness. "No, no… that's not true! I did help Dean! I have helped you!"_

_Dream John hovered over his son, looking down at him before giving him a sick smirk, his eyes full of hatred. "Don't kid yourself, Sammy. You just made things worse. Just like you always do. Let me help you, son. Let me just put you out of your misery."_

_Without waiting for a response, their father raised his gun and hit Dream Sam hard in the head, knocking him out cold._

"Sam! Sammy! Wake up!"

Sam jolted out of his nightmare, tears making trails down his face and the taste of metallic back in his mouth again. He looked down and saw the thin blood had run down his chin and fell into his hands, but not before staining his green shirt first. He looked over with frightened eyes and saw Dean looking back at him worriedly, his eyes wide.

"Are you okay, Sam? You're going all Freddy Krueger on me over there…" Dean's voice shook.

Sam looked around and took a deep breath before he let it out. "Y-Yeah, yeah… I'm fine… just a bad dream."

Dean looked at him with confusion and fear in his eyes. "Are you sure, man? I was going to start assuming there was some demon coming after you that I couldn't see… do you need me to pull over?"

"No, Dean. I'm all right, really."

"Are you sure? Speak now or forever hold your peace, Sammy…"

Sam shook his head and cleared his throat. "I'm sure, just… keep driving. We need to get there," Sam assured him as he continued to struggle to catch his breath.

Dean looked at him guardedly but just nodded in understanding, fighting all his urges to pull off to the shoulder of the road and demand to know every detail of his nightmare. Was he going through his Lucifer phase again? If he was, he wouldn't know what was real and what wasn't. He'd be a liability in combat with the other demons.

Sam stayed awake against his better instincts, terrified of spiraling back into the same nightmare with his father. He thought everything would over now that they left John's place, but in fact, things had just gotten worse inside his head. He turned on the radio in an attempt to help keep him awake and he was surprised when Dean didn't switch it to one of his 80's hair bands. He glanced over at his brother who concentrated on the road but he could see the wheels turning in his head as well.

The brothers drove down the road towards Topeka, where all the supernatural activity was happening. Once he arrived in the city, everything seemed normal. Of course, that was how it usually started with an case. Dean pulled into a nearby motel parking lot and shut off the engine.

"Man, I could really go for some pie right about now."

Sam had to chuckle, despite how he was feeling currently. "You're kidding. We just had lunch two hours ago."

Dean smiled charmingly. "Pie has no time, Sammy. The pie calls when it calls."

"Alright, fine, we'll get pie but tomorrow, we go interview people," Sam declared. When Dean pulled his arms down in a "Yes!" motion, Sam set his bag down on the bed before starting back out towards the Impala.

They settled for the nearest local diner and started eating when the food came to them. Sam felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, feeling like he had been in this same diner in this same town a million times over, doing the same job with his brother. Although each case was unique in its own way, they all blended together after a while. Sam sipped his coffee and poked at his sliver of cherry pie.

Just then, Sam nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard their dad's ringtone. The brothers exchanged looks.

"Are you going to answer it?" Sam asked hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dean sighed and shook his head, looking down at his pie before he looked at the Caller ID, waiting for it to go to voicemail. He bit his lip before he finally opened it and listened to his voicemail:

_Hey, this is Dean. You shouldn't even have this number but if you do, then you're one of the lucky few. You know what to do. BEEP._

"_Dean, bring Sammy back home right now. It's too dangerous for him up there. He hasn't even finished his proper training. You could get him killed! He's not strong enough to hunt whatever's going on up there. Besides, if you run into the other hunters, I can't save your stubborn asses from getting shot at. Do the right thing, Dean. Come home right now. If you're really insistent about this damn case, then bring him back here and then drive back up alone. Don't be a jackass."_

Dean ended the voicemail and set the phone back down before he shook his head, his face unreadable. Sam looked expectantly at his brother. "Well? What'd he say?"

He watched as Dean tongued his cheek in thought and looked up at him. "He thinks you're not trained well enough to take on the Topeka monsters and that I should bring you back home. He says that if I want, I can go back up here alone, and finish the job…"

Sam got an uncomfortable lump in his throat as his stomach twisted like knives. "W-What do _you_ think, Dean?"

A silence fell between them and Dean half shrugged before he searched Sam's eyes. "I think he's right. You haven't finished your training yet and this could be a dangerous case. On the other hand, I think he's wrong. I can't do this alone and I sure as hell don't want to finish the job with another hunter. You've fought by my side before and I want you here with me now. Are you okay with that, Sammy?"

Sam let out a long sigh of relief, his stomach untwisting. He felt like he could cry sweet tears of reprieve. He glanced out the window as it started raining and then looked back at Dean. "Yeah, that's fine. I don't want to be back home with him. I've got your back still."

Dean nodded. "I know you do, Sam. I've got yours too."

They finished their pie and were sipping at their coffee, more in an attempt to warm themselves up than in need of actual caffeine. Then, something caught Sam's eye. From where he was sitting, he saw a woman sitting at a table alone, her eyes frightened and unsure. Worse yet, he saw large blue and yellow bruises on her face.

"I think we should question her," he whispered to his older brother.

Dean glanced over his shoulder nonchalantly at the broken and battered woman before looked back at Sam. "Have you gone off the deep end? She's obviously had a rough night. Of all people, I expected you to be the most considerate out of the two of us. That's not a case. Her husband or boyfriend probably came home drunk and decided to take it out on her. She's a victim of abuse, not a paranormal case. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out, man."

Sam rolled his eyes and leaned over the table to whisper. "Maybe but look at her, Dean. She looks like Alice in Wonderland. She looks beyond confused, less scared. I'm just going to go ask her a few questions. I'll be right back…"

He got up from the table and ripped his jacket away when Dean reached out to grab him. "Damn it, Sammy..."

Sam moved over to the table where the battered woman was sitting at, her hands around a cup of tea. She looked up at him when he stood before her. "Excuse me, umm… do you mind if I sit? I'm part of the FBI," Sam quickly flashed his fake ID at her before pocketing it again.

She motioned for him to sit down and then looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong…?"

Sam shook his head and put his hands out towards her. "No, no… but…. I just couldn't help but notice the bruising around your face. Did your… boyfriend do that to you?"

Her fear grew and she shook head furiously before she looked down at her cup again timidly. "I mean, he didn't mean to…"

Sam bit his lip and gave her a small smile. "Listen, you don't need to lie, Miss. I've been there and if he is hurting you, you have the right to tell someone and get help –"

She shook her head again. "No, you don't understand, Sir. This was the first time he's ever done it, and it was just… so strange because right after, he had no memory of even doing it. He was so upset and mad at himself that he hurt me like this and I didn't know what else to do, so I drove here. I hoped it would help him cool off… why did you say the FBI was here again?"

Sam was surprised by her statement and wrote key phrases down in the notebook he kept in his inside jacket pocket.

_Sudden violent outburst_

_No recollection after the event_

"I apologize, I didn't. My brother and I, he's sitting over there, we're here because of reports of mysterious behavior in the area. There's been reports of various deaths and we're just here interviewing people. You said that your boyfriend doesn't usually do this to you. This could classify as mysterious behavior. Do you think you could try and remember how he looked or anything he said to you before he hurt you?"

She looked at a loss for words as she tried to think back. "We were just in the living room, watching our favorite show, and he was talking normally up until something in him just… snapped. He started yelling and screaming at me for no reason at all."

"What was he yelling at you about? Did he say specifically?"

She shook her head and held her hands out, looking utterly helpless. "He was yelling about how we didn't spend time together, but that was because of both of our jobs. We're both really busy… and he kept saying how worthless I was, how my existence doesn't matter. I-I just don't understand. He never complained about our work hours. He always told me he loved me, every day, and after the whole thing happened and I was laying on the floor, he started crying. He started just sobbing and telling me over and over again how sorry he was and he had no idea what happened. And his eyes –"

Sam straightened up now, searching her face. "His eyes? What was strange about his eyes?"

She shook her head in disbelief again. "While he was… hurting me, his eyes were just black. He didn't have any pupils or irises or anything. It was so strange."

Sam nodded in complete understanding and sighed before rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, that is unusual, definitely. Thank you for your time, Miss," Sam placed ten dollars on the table for her tea and a hot meal before he stood up and walked back over to his brother sat expectantly.

"So? What'd you find out?"

"Well, she says that things were fine before the attack happened. They were both happy and talking, watching television and then he got angry, really angry. He started telling her how useless she was and bitching about work hours and never getting to see her, hit her, and then afterwards, had no recollection of ever doing it."

Dean looked contemplative now, thinking. "What do you think, schizophrenic episode? Blacked it out after he hit her?"

Sam shook his head once. "I really don't think so… unless… solid black eyes is another symptom of schizophrenia."

It was Dean's turn to straighten up now, his eyes going big. "Demon then. It's like we have a real life Loki on our hands, except Loki's a trickster God. Who else could this be?"

Sam shrugged and took another drink from his coffee. "Well let's think. We only know several other demons who would do something like this, unless it's one big one in charge and the others are just taking orders from him and doing his dirty work."

"Maybe. Lucifer maybe? He could want to turn everyone on each other…"

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Dean. I don't think it's him. You'd think he'd keep possessing them. He's not one to let go so easily. From what she told me, it was over and done with in about five minutes. Any other ideas?"

Dean sighed heavily, finishing his coffee and then put a $20 down on the table for the bill. "I don't know, man but it's getting dark. It's been a long day. We need to hit the z's. Let's go back to the motel and start fresh tomorrow…"

Sam nodded in agreement and then stood up with his brother. They left the diner and drove back to the hotel. Sam fell down on one of the single beds and looked up at the ceiling after Dean fell asleep almost instantly. He wished it had been a demon inside his father all the times he had hurt him. It'd make things easier to explain, he would be able to confide in his brother without the possibility of actual disbelief and maybe even the risk of Dean thinking less of Sam. They had grown up together and Dean had never seen John lay a finger on Sam, nor did their father ever hurt Dean, so maybe Sam's fears weren't so far- fetched.

He would risk a lot by telling Dean but now didn't seem like a good time. These were demons that were getting inside the victims and causing the drama. Maybe if John had been possessed all those times, Sam would be able to forgive John but that wasn't how it was. He hadn't been possessed at all, except by maybe his own inner demons. He wished that exorcising John was all it took to get his father back; he wished it with all his heart.


	4. No Son Of Mine

**A/N: I don't really feel like I need to say anything for this chapter except please don't crucify me if my information isn't 100% correct. **

**Also, any Dean/Sam suggestive language or imagery was purely coincidental and not meant to be slashy.**

**That's all!**

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Sam sat at the table with Dean, searching the web for answers or anything that might possibly prove helpful. He was scrolling down the pages but Sam wasn't really reading anything. Every time he tried, his mind would begin to trail somewhere else and dark thoughts crept back into his head. He heard Dean sigh in mental exhaustion and then clear his throat.

"Hey, uhh… what do you say we take a break? I'm totally wiped, man."

Sam glanced up at his brother and searched his face. "Do you have something better to do than research? This is pretty important, don't you think, with people dying and everything?"

"I need a cold beverage of the alcoholic kind. Let's just go hit the bar and have a few while we try and mull this case over? We need to hit the pause button for a couple hours, Sammy," Dean continued to encourage him.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and then sat back in his chair before he took a drink of his water that was sitting on the table with them. He saw the frustration in his brother's eyes. "Go ahead. I'm going to stay here and continue researching this thing."

He looked at him with skepticism. "C'mon, you need a break too. We'll keep researching the case when we come back."

"No, when we come back, you'll be too drunk to even focus and you'll fall into one of the beds and pass out until morning. I'm your brother, Dean; I know how you operate."

"Well… then you should know better than to let me go alone," he smirked as he stood up and put his jacket up.

Sam turned his attention back to the screen and started to scroll again. "I know that if you don't have a DD, then you'll only have one or two and a water, and then drive home yourself. I also know that you don't trust cabs and you'd rather not drink a lot and then drive home yourself than take a cab, so I'm not that worried about you, Dean."

"Damn it!" Dean straightened out his jacket and grabbed his keys before he started towards the Impala, verifying his brother's accurate prediction about himself.

Sam didn't look up from the screen until he heard the sound of the car start up and pull out of the motel parking lot. Then he closed the laptop and rubbed his face with his hands.

_You may be right about your brother's intentions but you'll never find out the demon for your case. You're too weak to even try, Sam. Your own brother knows how weak you are; that's why he needed to get away. He can't stand to see your own worthlessness, just like your father couldn't._

"Shut up! Shut the hell up!" Sam screamed, grabbing the glass and then throwing it against the kitchen area wall before he watched it shatter into tiny shards and spread out across the floor.

When he realized what he'd done, he felt his eyes fill up with fresh tears. He angrily rubbed them, trying to will them away back into his sockets but to no avail. Sam started pacing the kitchen now, cursing when he stepped on the broken shards but the pain felt fleeting, if not even welcome. He had felt so numb and angrily since they were at their father's and all the year of abuse built up inside of him. Sam felt a slew of emotions developing inside of him; sadness, anger, panic. He couldn't keep them all together along with the voices in his head. He wasn't even sure if he was really hearing them or if it was his own voice taunting himself.

Just then, he heard the ringtone belonging to John echo in the room. At first he thought John was calling Dean until he felt the vibrations in his own pocket. He hit the 'answer" button before daring to speak.

"You have a lot of nerve calling me after what you did to me all those years up to now," Sam hissed icily, his insides churning.

A cold laugh came on the other end. "You have a lot of nerve talking to your own father like that, boy. What the hell are you two doing up there?"

"We're doing our goddamned jobs! You know, what you raised us to do instead of being a normal father and playing catch with us? We're doing what we have to because innocent people are getting hurt and the other hunters aren't doing a damn thing to help them!"

Sam knew he would never talk like this to John face to face but somehow, a phone made the distance between them feel safer and gave him more courage.

"Sam, you have no idea what this thing is! You're wasting everyone's time!" John interjected now, his own anger laced in his voice.

"That's why we're doing research! Obviously you have no idea what it is either or else you wouldn't have called us! Oh wait," Sam laughed to himself without any humor, "did you call Dean first and try asking him before you called me?"

A short silence fell on the other line and then his father's harsh tone answered. "Of course I did. You're not as smart as Dean, and you'll never be as smart as him! You might have some college education under your belt but by God, Sam… I made sure that didn't last long, didn't I? With me is where you get the real education, son. Don't kid yourself…"

His father's criticizing made Sam shrink a bit, his courage beginning to deteriorate. He felt his chest tighten and tears fell from his eyes finally but more out of frustration and anger at himself than anything. "Well you sure raised me right, didn't you? You taught me where I stood and that was clearly not even in this family! You've always faired Dean over me! Always! Did you even want me or was I just another extra hunter for you and him?"

"You may be my blood but you have been nothing but a solid disappointment for me and Dean since day one, Sam. Think of all the times you've almost gotten him killed with your own stupidity and weakness! That's on you!" John yelled hatefully into the phone.

Sam overturned the chair in one swoop, knocking it to the floor and across the room so it slid across the broken glass. "Why did you even call here, Dad? Why? You must have gotten in touch with Dean! Why did you feel the need to call me and tell me what a horrible person I am?" He almost whimpered into the phone.

He swallowed back a sob that was tight in his throat. No, he wouldn't let his father know he was secretly crying. If he did, then John would never let him live it down until his dying day. He wiped his face on his shirt, as if trying to quickly hide the tears before his father saw him.

"I called because Dean told me to leave the two of you alone and that you were better off without me but I can already see that your naivety is going to get your brother killed and I can't afford to lose my best son," John replied, almost too casually.

_Best son._ _Well that answered a lot of Sam's questions._

"Go to Hell, Dad. Just go fucking straight to Hell because I never want to hear from you again!" Sam angrily hung up and then threw the phone onto the couch, knowing it wouldn't cause any damage if it bounced off something soft.

Sam knew that he sounded childish and stupid but he felt so angry that he couldn't think straight. John had just verified all of Sam's thoughts since he was little. How insignificant he really was, how Dean was their father's favorite, not even trying to deny it. He paced the kitchen and cursed when he stepped on a shard of glass, cutting his skin. Sam was caught off balance from the pain that he was now only starting to feel and lost his footing, causing him to fall into the shattered small pieces of glass. He cried out in rage and pain and crawled over to the one of the corners that didn't have any pieces of glass nearby. He examined his wounds, watching the thin trails of blood move slowly out of his skin.

_You deserve this. You deserve to feel all this pain. _

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Sam put his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tightly, beginning to wonder if maybe it really was Lucifer back in his head.

The front door suddenly opened and the next voice he heard was Dean as he saw the disheveled room. Sam felt his brother's hands on his shoulders and he winced slightly.

"Sammy! Sam, what the hell happened? Are you all right? Sam!"

He forced himself to open his eyes and looked up, letting Dean see his red puffy wet eyes and he helplessness that was written on his face. He finally now let the sob escape his throat.

"Sam… listen to me. It's okay, you're safe. Do you hear me?" Dean asked, calm in his voice. When he saw his brother nod, he continued. "Okay, good. I have to get the glass out of you now. We can't let it stay in there. I'm just going to go get a pair of tweezers but I promise I'll be right back, okay?"

Sam nodded again, unable to stop his sobs but wanting to let Dean know that he heard him. Sam didn't want his brother to see him so vulnerable and hurt, regardless of him having seen him like such multiple times. That had been different; the pain and vulnerability had been caused by demons and other creatures. It hadn't been self-inflicted.

Dean kept his promise and came back with a roll of bandage, antiseptic cream and a pair of tweezers. He knelt down in front of his brother and sighed but looked at him, eye level. "Okay, I'm going to start on your right side. I want you to squeeze my hand tightly if you feel any pain. Just try not to scream or anything."

Sam forced himself to speak now. "O-Okay…"

Dean gave him his whole arm and Sam grabbed it so he was lightly holding onto Dean's left forearm, leaving his right hand free to work. He grabbed the tweezers and began to dig the tiny shard out of his brother's skin. "Talk to me, Sammy. What happened? I leave you alone for half an hour and you wreck the place," he teased but tried to keep the seriousness in his voice.

Sam grimaced as soon as he felt the pain, gripping Dean's forearm tightly, unable to laugh at his brother's remark at the moment. "D-Dad… Dad called…"

Dean glanced up momentarily from his work and then shook his head before turning his attention back to the injury. "Yeah? What did he say? Couldn't been good from your reaction and all the broken glass…"

He was quiet for a long time, debating whether or not to tell Dean the truth. Instead he focused on the pain of his brother digging into his skin, clenching his jaw.

"Come on, Sam, what did he say? Was it about the case? Did he give any leads or anything? I know he's the biggest douchebag in the world but anything he said about the case could actually prove to be useful right now since we're coming up empty," Dean finally plucked the piece of glass out and set it aside on the floor before he started on a larger piece.

Sam put his head back and groaned in pain, half wondering if Dean was purposefully causing him pain to get an answer to his questions. "No! N-No… he didn't… h-he didn't give any leads. He j-just… gave me a lot of crap…"

Dean's eyes became semi curious and he quickly plucked out the larger shard before continuing on. "Because of our great escape? What exactly did he say?"

Sam gripped his brother's arm again to stop himself from screaming out from anger and pain now. He took a deep breath and let it out through his mouth slowly. "He said how useless I was, to you and him… he s-said… how I was going to g-get you killed and… h-OW! How I was just a b-burden to you…"

Dean grabbed the glass and set it aside again before he stopped what he was doing and looked at Sam with what he feared was disbelief in his older brother's eyes. "John? Our father, said that to you? That sounds like some shape shifter shit to me, Sam…"

It was what he had feared for years… Dean didn't believe him. Of course he didn't. John never treated Dean like he treated Sam. Why should this come as a surprise?

"N-No… Dean, please believe me… he t-told me those things! He did!" Sam looked away as more tears fell from his eyes. He finally looked back at his brother again, wanting him to see the desperation in his red eyes. "I swear… I swear on our mother, Dean… John's been saying those things to me since we were kids and he hasn't ever stopped saying them!"

Dean bit his lip and looked unsurely at Sam now. He ran a hand through his hair and then sighed softly before he looked straight into his eyes. "Why? Why would he think less of you than me? I-I'm trying to believe you, Sammy, but it just… doesn't make any sense to me."

Sam didn't know what to say. All he could do was look at Dean helplessly, more tears streaming down his face. How could he not believe his own flesh and blood? This was even worse than Sam had ever imagined telling Dean. He had expected his brother to believe him right away. Looking at Dean though, he could see in his eyes how badly he wanted to believe his younger brother. He knew what he had to do now and the thought of what he had to do next was almost too much for him to bear.

He swallowed hard before he let another sob escape him and he looked at Dean again. Slowly, he took a deep breath and then lifted his shirt up and over his head, revealing the multiple bruises John had given him just days ago, even the bruises on his neck that Dean hadn't seen before. The dark purple had disappeared but now it was more of a lavender color mixed with a pale yellow. Several scars also were visible in several places on Sam's chest and sides, obviously not done by a professional.

Dean leapt back at first sight, his eyes widened in fear. He took a shaky breath and stared at the bruises. "Jesus Christ, Sammy… h-he did that…?"

Sam nodded and then looked down at his hands. "Those were from a few days ago, but… he's been giving me bruises since he started teaching us how to hunt and started training us."

Dean shook his head but Sam knew that he believed his brother finally. The proof was written all over Sam's body. There was no more denying it. "Oh God… Sam… I-I don't even know what to say, man… I'm so sorry…"

Sam half shrugged but fresh tears came down and made trails down his face against his will. "I-I'm just so glad you believe me… y-you have… no idea how good it feels for me to finally be able to tell you, Dean. Every damn day he hurt me, I wanted to run to you and… I couldn't. H-He threatened to kill us both if I told anyone else, even you."

Dean had to look away now to hide his own tears. He sniffed once and rubbed his face before he then moved back in closer to Sam, eyeing the scars. "Please tell me he didn't do that and that those scars are just from hunting… please, Sammy…"

Sam felt a bit embarrassed now. He had split himself open to Dean and he felt like an attention seeker. He felt so pathetic, but he needed his only brother to believe him more than anything else in the world. Deep inside his heart, he knew he wasn't an attention seeker. After all, he had kept the secret from everyone until now for nearly 13 years.

"N-No… John did that too… it was from his knife, all the times he threatened me…"

"Oh Christ… no… Oh god…" Dean whimpered into his hands now, clearing his throat in a weak attempt to hide his own crying and sadness. He suddenly hit the floor with his fist. "Damn it! Why didn't I know about this? Why didn't I see what was happening?!"

Sam jumped slightly at Dean's sudden rage, not wanting to admit he saw a bit of their father in him. "H-He… he did it when you were at Bobby's or… with Mom. He did it when I was alone with him…"

Dean looked at his brother with sympathy in his matching eyes, and sorrow. Apology. "I-I just should've known this was going o-on! I can't believe this, man… I hate m-myself so much for not seeing what was happening…"

Sam shook his head and looked at Dean in concern. "No, Dean… don't be like that. I'm okay. I am, really. There's nothing you could've done anyway."

"No, Sammy… I could've _killed _that son-of-a-bitch. Don't tell me there's nothing I could've done because you and I both know that's not true. We could've gone to Bobby together and told him what John was doing to you. There's no way he wouldn't have believed us both, friend or not," Dean countered.

Sam sighed, chewing on his lip. Just looking at Dean he could see how broken up he was and knew that right now, he had to be the stronger one for once. "Come on, we need to get this cleaned up and go back to the case. Time's running out."

He honestly didn't know if time was really running out for them but it seemed like the right thing to say to Dean. It got the fire lit under his ass because it made him clear his throat and stand up before he began to pick up the shards of glass. While Dean did that, Sam put the antiseptic cream and bandages on his arm himself, just wanting to get off the topic of him and their father. He didn't want his brother to get sidetracked when there were people getting hurt. He put the first aid materials back into the bathroom and picked up the chair he had knocked over while talking to John and grabbed the laptop before he sat back down.

He watched as Dean placed a bottle of beer in front of Sam and sat down across from him. When he saw Sam's 'are-you-kidding-me' look, he just half shrugged and started to drink his. "Think of it as an apology for not being not believing you earlier."

Sam sighed and unscrewed the lid off of it before he began to take a long pull from it. He gave Dean a small smile that he returned. "Dean, don't think that this is your fault. Okay? We can't let what Dad did get in the way of what we have to do right now."

Dean nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "I know, Sammy. Now what the hell are we doing talking? We need to figure out what the hell's attacking these people…"

Sam smiled to himself, feeling a bit more relaxed about his brother as he went into hunter mode and took his laptop from him to do research. Sam leaned over and grabbed his shirt before he put it back on to avoid distraction. As he watched Dean throw out suggestions, he felt his anger subsiding but the sadness left remnants of itself inside him, like the glass shards that Dean had pulled out earlier. He knew he should feel relieved but he couldn't help but feel empty again. Sure, he had told Dean but it's not like the years of physical and verbal abuse just suddenly disappeared. Those things were still stuck in Sam's head and they were things he had to live with forever.

"The Gaap! It has to be!" Dean suddenly exclaimed, breaking Sam out of his thoughts.

Sam forced himself to focus back on the case himself now and took another pull of his beer before he looked curiously at Dean. "What's the Gaap? What does he do?"

Dean leaned in to read the information he had found. "'The Gaap is a mighty Prince and Great President of Hell. Gaap causes love and hate at will, make men insensible and ignorant…' blah blah blah…."

"Wait, so he can make people hate each other… insensible, ignorant… that explains what happened with that one woman we saw in the diner. Does it say what shape he takes?"

Dean scrolled down and then read again. "'Gaap specifically controls the element of water and reigns over the Water Elementals or the 'water demons'. Gaap takes human shape…' Do you think it's this Gaap that's causing the murders and domestic violence?"

Sam shrugged but a part of him felt hopeful, hopeful they had finally gotten an answer to the big question. "I don't know, Dean, but it's definitely possible. It would explain how he's been able to get into the victim. It might take human form after it's done but it has control of the water elements. If he somehow got into a pipeline and put the curse or whatever on the water, then the victim drank from it… he could ultimately possess that person until the damage is done. It makes sense…"

Dean looked relieved again and he closed the laptop to look at Sam. "Let's go back and talk to her husband. It's a small town; I'm sure we can find him. Maybe if we ask him the right question, we can get an idea how to find this Gaap."

Sam nodded and then stood up before both brothers disappeared to go get changed into suits.


	5. Black Water

**A/N:**** Thank you for the review, reannablue! You're awesome. Happy New Year to you (and all my other followers as well!) **

**Let's start this new year off right with a new chapter! **

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It was a quiet ride to the diner where they had first seen the woman. The town was about the same size as any small town and the odds of her husband being here were pretty good. Dean was stopped at a traffic and he cleared his throat before he spoke.

"You okay, Sammy? I mean… obviously, you're not… okay… but…" he trailed off, clearly becoming uncomfortably and cursing himself at the same time. "I mean –"

Sam looked over at his elder brother and he gave him a reassuring smile. "I know what you mean, Dean. It's fine… I'm fine. I just want to get this case over with so we can relax again."

Dean nodded in understanding and then gently accelerated again when the light turned green. Regardless of it being a small town, the drive to the diner would still take at least another five minutes. They drove on in silence once again before Dean spoke up once more. "Are you sure you're fine? I mean, obviously you've got some issues going on inside your head. You must, I mean… it's Dad and all –"

Sam sighed and shook his head. "Dean, can you stop with the 'obvious' thing and just get to the point?"

Dean put a hand up in surrender but he was starting to become impatient. "Fine! What I'm just trying to say is are you sure you're going to be okay to work on this case? I mean, if you're having inner demons going on in your head, do you think you'll be able to fight the demons outside of it? You can't afford to be distracted, talking to the witnesses or fighting these… Gaaps."

Sam was quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. That was his problem; his mind just never shut off. Even at night it took him forever to get to sleep. He couldn't stop the negative thoughts in his head and the flashbacks from his living with John and growing up with the abuse. They were working on a case that involved a demon that had the power to spread hatred, ergo by abusing the other person. At least this was one of the cases that was happening. What if Sam saw it happen in person? Would his mind black out and go back to when he was being abused with John? They couldn't afford to screw up. They had people to save.

"I-I'll be fine, Dean. I can stay focused…"

His brother half-chuckled. "Oh yeah, that's pretty –" Sam gave him a warning look. "Clear…" Dean finished sarcastically, willing himself not to say 'obvious' again.

"Damn it, Dean! Stop it. Just give me a chance to work on the case here…" Sam growled out of frustration.

Dean parked in the parking lot at the diner and shut off the engine before he looked over at his brother. "Alright! Jesus, man… you're like a little kid begging to be let on a ride or something! Just calm down. You've got your chance, just like you always have! Let's do this."

Sam rubbed his eyes and followed his brother into the diner, trying to look casual. The task proved difficult with all the wary-eyed townspeople who had looked up when the brothers walked through the door. Sam glanced around, smiling politely, having no idea where the woman's boyfriend was. There were at least a dozen men in the diner, some sipping coffee and others eating dinner. He looked at Dean. "We didn't even catch her name. How do we know who to ask?" Sam leaned in and whispered to his brother.

Dean cast his eyes off in the direction of his brother's shoulder, trying to be nonchalant as he whispered back, "Let's go ask the local sheriff. See where that gets us."

Sam followed Dean over to where the only police officer in the diner was, sipping coffee and talking to the waitress behind the counter. When Dean cleared his throat, the sheriff turned around and stood up, eying them from head to toe.

"Hey there, gentlemen. Can I help you two with something?"

Dean and Sam both flashed their fake FBI IDs and then closed them up again before Dean spoke. "Agent Plant and Agent Bonham. We sure hope so. We're here on a report of mysterious behavior happening around these parts. One of our men interviewed a young lady yesterday here at the diner and she claimed that her boyfriend or husband… or whatever… had a spell and lashed out at her. Then she reported that he was apologetic afterwards. Can you tell us what kind of guy he is? We just want to get a feel of the nice people in this town.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow but he shrugged. "Tom's a good guy… I've known him my whole life and he doesn't seem like the type that would get drunk and hit his girlfriend. I was the first one on scene after she called us. Amy was terrified but she was begging me not to take him in that night. I sat down and talked to him about it and he claims he doesn't remember what happened. He says he blacked out and woke up again and he saw Amy on the floor, crying, with bruises on her face and cut lip. Why did they send you boys up here anyway? It doesn't really seem like a case the FBI would handle…"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and it was Sam's turn to speak. "Uhh… well, we were told that there's been serial killings as well in this area… can you tell us anything about that, Sheriff?"

The sheriff's facial expression now turned somewhat grim and he sat back down in his seat, gesturing for Sam and Dean to sit on either side of him. "Well, yes… that's right. One of our guys seemed a bit… quiet for a few days. He hardly ate, hardly slept, hardly talked. It was rather strange. His name was Officer Owens. Anyway, we got a call from the local grocery store that he was arguing with one of his good friends and he put his firearm to the man's forehead. When we arrived on scene, we heard Officer Owens just… degrading the poor guy. It went on for about an hour or so," Dean and Sam nodded as they listened. "Then, suddenly, the other guy grabbed the gun out of Owens' hands and put it to his own head before he pulled the trigger. It seemed like a power of suggestion thing or something…"

Sam's confusion in his eyes was met with the same expression on Dean's face. "Wait, so Officer Owens talked his friend into suicide? What happened then?"

The sheriff took a sip of his coffee and half shrugged. "He passed out on the floor. He woke up several moments later and started screaming when he saw his friend with most of his head missing, blood everywhere. He was inconsolable. They had to take him away in an ambulance and give him a sedative to calm him down. Then there was another case here in town just the other day."

"What happened?" Sam asked curiously, but he figured he could draw his own conclusion.

"Well," the sheriff started. "My good friend Dave Edwards is an ex alcoholic so all he orders at places is water. He won't go near the heavy stuff. Anyway, his brother tells me that they were talking at his house and all of a sudden, Davy just starts talking about their childhood. He starts screaming at his brother Henry about things that happened when they were younger, things that had been over and done with for at least 30 years. He tells Henry that their mother's death was his fault, their dog dying, their father leaving, on and on… and then Henry says to me that he didn't know what to do. He just kept apologizing and telling him that the past was the past, and to just move on, right? Well, Dave takes out his switchblade knife and jumps on Henry, trying to stab him! Henry says that he was able to get the knife away from his brother through a struggle, ended up slicing himself several times but nothing life-threatening, and then Dave passed out. When he came to, he looked more scared than a cat being chased by a bear. He said he had no memory at all of their argument or the attack with the knife."

Dean felt sick to his stomach. He swallowed hard and then nodded once. "That's unusual for sure. Umm… thanks for the information, Sheriff. Can you happen to point us in the direction of Tom?"

The sheriff appeared to shiver at the recollection of events and nodded before he leaned over and pointed to a man who was alone in the last booth at the back. Dean and Sam both nodded gratefully to him and then started walking towards the booth silently. They sat down in the opposite side of Tom and flashed their badges quickly once again.

Tom seemed to tense and his eyes looked slightly panicked. Sam was surprised that he looked to be only eighteen, same age as he was. He felt thankful for being so tall now, his height made him look at least five years older.

"I told everything I know to Sheriff Lemkey over there! I swear I didn't know what I was doing…" Tom's voice shook with fear and frustration.

"Hey, we know… we believe you. We just wanted to hear your side of the story and to get more answers. Whatever you tell us will stay between the three of us, Tom. Okay? We just want to try and help," Sam tried to calm him down.

Dean seemed surprisingly quiet for someone who was usually a chatty Cathy the rest of the time. Sam looked over at his brother to see his face pale and his eyes unreadable. He gently nudged him for encouragement and nodded in Tom's direction.

"Oh, yeah. That's right. We're here to help so… any input from you would be awesome," Dean replied in an almost cold tone.

Tom let out a heavy sigh and anxiously ran his fingers through his hair before he looked up at Sam and Dean. Who are you guys, like Sully and Mulder or something?"

"Actually, it's Scully," Sam corrected.

Dean looked at Sam and put his arms out, shaking his head. "Dude, does it matter?"

Sam rolled his eyes, figuring he should just be grateful Dean actually said something without having to be nudged. He looked back at Tom. "Anyway, we're something like that. We investigate cases we don't believe are regular violent cases. We both feel like this one has a paranormal element to it and we're just trying to get answers. Can you tell us what you were doing before you hurt Amy?"

Tom wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and nodded, biting his lip. We were sitting in the living room talking about her sister. She's pregnant and Amy was worried about her because her husband's in the Army and serving overseas so he isn't going to be home in time for the birth. Anyway, we were just sitting on the couch talking with the television on… and that's the last thing I remember."

Dean preoccupied himself with taking notes so he wouldn't feel so pressured to talk. Instead, he let Sam do all the talking.

"What were you drinking? Were you both having coffee, alcohol, tea…?" Sam trailed off.

Tom looked confused now. "What difference does it make what we were drinking? I hurt Amy… I hit her… and I don't even remember doing it!"

Sam sighed and leaned forward. "Look, these questions are just part of the paranormal thing, Tom. We need to know any details that could help us. Every little one helps."

Tom looked away before he took a drink of his coffee and looked at Sam almost sadly. "I was drinking water, she had a glass of wine."

"What kind of water? Was it from the tap or bottled?"

Tom looked like he wanted to scream at Sam but seemed to remember Sam's last remark about every detail being important and relaxed slightly. "Tap, it was tap water… I'm sorry, I don't understand how tap water could be paranormal…"

"We can't tell you why it is yet but I suggest you stay away from the tap water and start drinking bottled from now on," Sam stood up and Dean followed suit before they walked over to the sheriff. Sheriff Lemkey stood up again and searched both their faces.

"So? Did you find some answers to this bizarre case?"

Sam nodded once. "We're getting there but as members of the Federal Bureau of Investigations, we have reason to believe that there's some homegrown terrorism going on in this town. It looks like some kind of poison or chemicals being released into the tap water in this area that's causing the people here to commit these violent acts against each other," Sam spoke low to him, not wanting to cause widespread panic. "We suggest you tell your townspeople to only drink bottled water until we can get a handle on the situation."

The sheriff's eyes widened and he looked almost fearful. He cleared his throat and then leaned closer to Sam. "What about the coffee? That's made with water…"

Sam glanced over at Dean who gave a half-hearted shrug. He turned back to the sheriff. "We have no cause to believe that the chemicals could survive in boiled water but if you notice anything else that's off, let us know." He gave him a card with their cell numbers on it and then led Dean out of the diner.

Sam exhaled as Dean got into the driver's seat of the Impala. "Come on, Dean, tell me what's going on with you? You barely said two words in there. You're usually the eager one to be Agent Plant. What's up, man?"

Dean started the ignition but Sam took the keys out and held onto them. He scoffed and shook his head. "Really? Do I have to tell you every single thought I have in my head like you're some insecure girlfriend or something? What's your problem, Sam?"

He made a grab for the keys but Sam pulled them away again. "What's my problem? My problem is that we had a job to do and you were so eager for me to do it inside and I was the basically the only one who ended up talking! Some demon is causing havoc in this town and people are dead, Dean! You could try acting like you give a damn!"

Dean gave his brother a dark look of disbelief and he grabbed the keys out of Sam's hand now before he put them back into the ignition, starting it up. "I do give a damn! I can't believe you would even accuse me like that! It's our job as hunters to give a damn. People have died, yes, Sammy… that's rough as hell and it sucks but it's not a difficult case! We need to find the demon and stab it, just like we've done with all the other demons we've fought!"

Sam sat back in his seat and looked out the window, unsure where this frustration was coming from. He was feeling distant to his brother, and even though Dean didn't tell him every single thing he felt, it wasn't hard for Sam to pinpoint what was bothering him. It was getting harder though. "You were quiet on the way here. Just tell me what you're thinking. It won't kill you…"

"I don't know, man. By the way things are going around here, it might!" Dean turned around and started driving back towards the motel.

Sam shook his head at the dark joke. "Why is everything a joke with you? Why can't you just be serious for once? I get that you joke because you can't actually let me know when something's bothering you but it's not a statewide secret or anything!"

Dean suddenly made a hard pull over to the side of the road and turned to Sam angrily. "Fine! You know want to know what's wrong? It's the fact that you kept your own little statewide secret from me your entire life! From your own damn brother! That's what's bothering me, Sam!" Dean growled.

Sam felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach and he sighed shakily, looking down at his bony fingers, a reminder of how long it had been since he ate a real, substantial meal. "I told you, I couldn't tell you, Dean," he whispered. "I couldn't… Dad threatened me. He threatened to kill me, Dean. I wanted to tell you… I did… so many times. I couldn't. I didn't want you to put you in danger… not when you were my only hope of getting out of his house alive."

Dean's expression softened and he hung his head. "Sammy… you could've told Bobby. He would've believed us over John."

Sam wet his lips, his mouth feeling so dry and his throat tight. "I tried, Dean. God knows I tried. I started to tell him about how I really got my cuts and bruises but the voices told me to just… shut up, and that I'd get you killed. So I lied… I lied to Bobby and you…"

Dean sunk into the seat and hit the steering wheel in frustration. He turned the radio off and looked over at his brother. "What would you have done if Dad had been the one hurting me, Sam? What if I didn't tell you he was but you knew?"

Sam swallowed hard and hoped that the scenario wasn't true. "If I knew? I'd do whatever it took to get us out of there. If he had hurt you, instead of me, or… or if he hurt you too, I would've probably set fire to the house or killed him."

The longer Sam looked at him and saw Dean's broken expression like shattered glass in his eyes, the more he got a feeling of dread that ran through his veins. "I… I should've done something. I… I-I suspected! Every time he made me go to a hunting trip with Bobby and you were left alone with him… and then we'd come back and you limped and I saw you c-cringe in pain… I-I suspected that Dad hurt you."

Sam felt his insides twist like knives upon hearing Dean get choked up as his already raspy, whiskey soaked voice trembled with something Sam couldn't identify. He took a deep breath and looked at him. "You might have suspected but you didn't know for sure. If Dad hadn't been hurting me, and you took the risk and killed him or… whatever… then… it would've been for nothing."

"It wouldn't have, though," Dean chewed on his lip. "I should've taken the chance because he was! It's not even about t a case if Dad did or didn't because he _did_ and I should've done something about it… it doesn't matter if I just suspected he did it, I should've been there for you, Sammy… and I wasn't."

Sam suddenly got his answers. That's why he had been so quiet inside; guilt had been gnawing at him since last night when he saw the damage John had inflicted on him. He placed two hands on Dean's shoulders now and looked him in the eye. "Dean, I don't hold it against you for not saving me from Dad. If he hadn't been abusing me and you killed him, it would've put all of us and what we do in danger. It wouldn't have helped any of us, okay? You're still my brother and I'd follow you to the ends of the Earth and through Hell… you know that, and I know you'd do the same for me. We're family and we've got each other's backs."

Dean nodded firmly but Sam heard him sniff softly and then looked away to make it look like he was scratching his face when really he was wiping tears away. Sam felt odd having to be the stronger one all those times Dean had been that person. Dean had been the one to take care of him when their father was away. Dean fed him and protected him. Dean fought for him. He did everything a brother should do and Sam honestly didn't blame him for not being able to protect him from their father.

"Alright, enough of this One Tree Hill moment. I'm starving…" Dean cleared his throat and then got back onto the road smoothly before he made way towards the motel.

When they walked through the door and into the warm room, Sam felt a sense of relief and accomplishment. They got more answers than questions for once, and they had a plan. As the Winchesters, Sam had no doubt that the demon would soon find them. He sat down on the bed in their bedroom, suddenly feeling both emotionally and physically drained. His bones ached, like an impeding storm of what was to come. What he was all too familiar with.

_You're so pathetic. You can't even assure your own brother. You know it was your own fault, Sam. You know that Dean can't blame himself for you being an incredible fuck up of a son. Your own father even told you he didn't want you from day one. You were a mistake that he can't erase. But you can. You can fix things for everyone. _

"Shut up…" Sam ordered in a hush whisper. "Shut up, that's not true… it's not…"

_You can fix it, Sam… you can give your father and your brother a happier life… a life they couldn't have because of your existence. Dean will never admit it but he'd be happier without you. He has to drag your ass around the country and he hates it… he wishes you weren't around so much. Why not just give them what they want? You know how to fix this. You know what to do, Sam. Fix it…_

Sam swallowed hard, his breathing ragged and uneven as he put the pillow over his head, covering his ears and humming a song he heard his brother play on the 8-track player at least a thousand times. He let the vibrations drown out the voices but he knew he couldn't stop them forever.

They were getting worse.


	6. Carry On My Wayward Son

**A/N: **** How long of a story do you guys think you can handle? I've seen some really long chapters on this site but I think 30 chapters might be overkill. I can write forever so let me know when the cutoff point is for you in a story. I really want to know. I don't want to write a 20 chapter story if you all are going to get sick of it and stop reading. **

**Okay, that's out of the way. Onto the next chapter! **

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Sam rolled over in his bed to hear the shower turning on. He sighed tiredly, resting one arm across his forehead. His bones ached like they were being crunched in a vise and he just felt so tired. So goddamn tired. His thoughts and voices kept him up all night and he couldn't find the energy to get dressed and make breakfast for the two of them. He heard his phone vibrating next to the bed and he reached out and grabbed it, looking at the Caller ID.

_Dad._

He felt a bad taste in his mouth but he couldn't even muster up the energy to pretend anymore. He hit the answer button. "Yeah?"

"What happened to 'yes, sir'? I didn't raise you to not respect me, Sam."

Sam swallowed hard and looked out the window at the rain that was _pit-pattering _on the window. "Why should I respect you? I grew up terrified of you. You beat me and try to kill me and you want me to respect you? You're a joke…"

"No, the joke here is you boys running off to Topeka chasing some unknown demon without me and without your training being done, son!"

He heard John hit something on the other end but he didn't jump for once. "Oh, you don't know what the demon is? That's a surprise. You're usually on top of this stuff, aren't you?"

"I'm still your father, goddamn it, Sam, and you'll respect me!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh to himself now. "That's funny, you calling yourself my father when Bobby's been more of a father to me and Dean more than you ever have… you have no right to call us like we're best friends and we're actually close, because we're not."

"Sam, you listen to me and you listen to me well. You're going to fail this case and the only thing you're going to succeed in doing is getting Dean killed by this demon! When you do get him killed, don't you dare thinking about coming back because you're no son of mine and I'd rather have none at all than you!" John roared into the phone.

Sam pressed the 'end call' button just as Dean walked out of the bathroom in a towel. He glanced over at Sam and gave him a soft smirk. "You look like hell, man. Didn't you sleep at all?"

"No," he replied, rubbing his face and turning over in his bed. "I haven't gotten any sleep for the past three days. Go try and find the demon without me…"

Dean sat on the bed across from Sam and looked down at his hands, his expression becoming serious. "I understand that Dad's beatings have taken a toll on you over the years. That's normal for someone in your… situation… but you need to get out of bed and help me, Sammy. I can't find this Gaap demon on my own. I need backup."

Sam turned over so he was looking at Dean, his eyes red and puffy, dark circles underneath. He was quiet for a long time and looked up at him. "You're strong, Dean. You don't need me. No one needs me. Just… call if you need help."

"No!" Dean stood up and grabbed the sheets off of Sam and ripped them off. "Get up! Come on, Sam! We have a job to do! You can go back to being Girl, Interrupted afterwards!"

Sam curled into himself as soon as his skin met the cool air. He turned over onto his back and forced his body out of the bed before he began to get dressed. He pulled his old shirt off and started looking around for a fresh one.

"Sammy…"

"No, I don't need to hear it right now, Dean," he hissed softly.

"No, I just… Jesus, Sam. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look friggin' emaciated, man! You need to eat something or you're going to waste away…"

Sam ignored him and ran his hand through his hair before he put on jeans and his leather jacket. Listening to his older brother rag him was the last thing he needed right now. He knew that it was just the way Dean showed concern but he just felt too run down to follow his advice.

_Don't listen to him, Sam. He doesn't really care about you. He wants you to waste away… he doesn't want you around. Dean doesn't love you. No one loves you. Who could ever love a needy, selfish brother like you? _

"Shut up! No! Stop! Stop it!" Sam suddenly shouted at the voices in his head. He looked up to see Dean eying him again, worriedly.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to get on your ass. You don't look good right now, man. You need to take care of yourself, you know?"

Sam took a deep breath and shook his head. "I-It's fine, Dean… I'm okay. Let's just go try to find this thing…"

"Oh, you mean… this thing?" Dean spoke in a dark voice.

Sam looked up to see Dean's normally green eyes were completely black and his smirk seemed foreign and cold. He took a step back, realizing his options were limited. He couldn't shoot his brother, nor could he grab his demon blade and stab the demon; either way he risked killing Dean and that just wasn't an option.

"What are you doing here? What do you want?" Sam asked, sidestepping what just moments ago was his brother.

Gaap-Dean smiled sickly and chuckled. "Well, you know what I am, Sam… so you know better than anyone! I'm better than the trickster, Sam. I'm not your average Loki. I can make people absolutely despise each other or I can make them love. It amazes me, it really does… how people are just so ignorant and self-serving sometimes. Well, most of the time. Take you and your brother for example. He's ignorant to the real pain you're feeling in your mind," the Gaap made Dean tap his head before continuing. "He's ignorant to everything your father did to you. That must hurt so much…"

Sam searched his brother's face and wished that he could see him again. This demon had Dean's voice but it wasn't Dean at all. "Oh, what? You suddenly care about how people are feeling? You killed people! You made people that loved each other, try and hurt each other! You're worse than the Trickster demon…"

Gaap-Dean balled his hands up and made a mock crying motion on his face. "Oh boo-hoo! People are dead and all my fault! Are you forgetting who you're talking to, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head, his sadness quickly turning into anger and rage. "Don't you dare call me that. Only my brother calls me Sammy!"

The Gaap laughed loudly and then rolled his eyes. "What are you doing to, Sam? Kill me? I'm frankly surprised you don't kill yourself! Being in your brother's skin bag, I know what he really thinks of you. He thinks you're pathetic! It's quite amusing, really…"

Sam's body sunk slightly, his hands starting to shake. His thoughts were becoming reality. "No, that's not true. You're lying… you're the pathetic one, needing to possess people to try and teach them some kind of lesson!"

The Gaap sighed exasperatedly and took a few steps closer to Sam until he was pinned against the wall. In one motion, he grabbed Sam by his neck and threw him against the wall, holding him a foot off the floor. "If I was lying, don't you think I could make up a more creative lie than that? Your brother is so dull, that's the most creative thought he has in his head! Well, that and he wishes you were never born. Hey now wait a minute… isn't that what your own father wishes too? Wow, the nut doesn't fall far from the tree there, does it?" Gaap-Dean grinned.

Sam frantically clawed at his brother's arm, trying to get him to wake up out of this somehow but it seemed futile. The Gaap made Dean ten times stronger and he was going to die here, in this shitty motel in a one horse-town with a demon possessing his brother. He had to do something but he couldn't think what. Finally, just when he was running out of oxygen, the Gaap let go of him and turned around.

He coughed and wheezed, trying to get the air back into his lungs. Sam barely had time to recover when he saw Gaap-Dean coming at him. He didn't have time to duck out of the way of Dean's steel-toed boot. He felt the impact hit his stomach hard, once, twice, three times. He coughed again and this time, he could taste blood.

"S-Stop… p-please…" Sam sputtered helplessly, the pain in his stomach excruciating.

The Gaap then kicked Sam in the head once. Sam felt like he was looking out a window with too much condensation; everything was foggy, including his own thoughts. The room spun as a tidal wave of dizziness hit him.

"I'm really not a horrible demon, Sam. I have good intentions; it's just my methods that aren't exactly kosher," Gaap-Dean spoke in a tone that seemed too casual for the seriousness of this situation. Although he knew that almost all the demons were like this, it hurt more that the words were coming out of his brother's mouth.

"G-Get out… get out of my brother," Sam ordered in a small, weak voice.

"I'll get out of him, but only as soon as I know he'll feel bad about what he's done to you. All those years growing up with him, always walking in his shadow… all those years of being Daddy's good little soldiers… God damn… wasn't it just exhausting for you? How did you put up with it all?"

Sam was about to reply when he saw green eyes flicker, like the motel sign lights. He forced himself onto his knees and searched frantically for his brother. "D-Dean?"

Dean looked at Sam now with tears in his eyes and put his hands over his chest. "Sam! You need to kill it! Take the knife and stab me! We need to end this!"

Sam shook his head, tears forming in his own eyes almost instantaneously. "There must be another way! I'm not killing you, Dean!"

The green light in his eyes flickered again. "I'm trying hard to fight this but I'm losing this battle fast, Sammy! Do what you need to do! I'll forgive you and I'm sure I'll see you in Hell but I don't want to live like this!"

Sam felt hot tears trickle down his face and all he could do was shake his head. He forced himself to grab the demon knife that was under his mattress and limped over to his brother. "Please don't make me do this, Dean… anything but this. There has to be another way!"

He saw how hard his brother was struggling. His jaw trembled and Dean's chest heaved with his erratic breathing as he fought against the Gaap. "I don't think there is, Sam… do it! Do it now!"

His eyes flicked back to black coals again, Dean's green eyes completely solid now. The Gaap looked at Sam and wiped away one of Dean's tears before he chuckled. "Well, that's embarrassing. You know what? I just got a brilliant idea! I'm rather comfy in your brother, Sam. I'm just going to make myself at home while you torture yourself by coming up with ways to kill him… I'll pop back every so often just to see how you're making out. Ta ta!"

"Wait!" Sam yelled out, panic settling in his chest. It was too late. Sam watched as Dean's normal green eyes came back, looking terrified now.

The flicker was gone from them and there appeared to be no sign of the Gaap but Sam knew he was still inside his brother. Sam spit out the blood that had formed in his mouth, unable to stand the coppery taste anymore. Dean, his real brother Dean, now stood in front of him, looked at Sam with pain in his eyes. Both brothers waited for the other to say something.

"W-Why didn't you do anything, Sam? Why didn't you kill it?"

Sam grimaced and shook his head, letting out an involuntary laugh out of disbelief but he quickly swallowed it. "Because that would've meant killing the only other person in this world that meant everything to me. I can't kill you, Dean. I'm sorry but I'm not killing you. I-I'll kill myself first before I murder you."

Dean fell onto his knees in front of Sam and put his arms over his head before he began rocking and let out a loud cry that sounded halfway between a scream and a wail. "Damn it!"

Sam let himself fall in front of his brother and cringed, still feeling pain in his stomach where the Gaap had kicked him. He tried to suck up his pain for the sake of his brother. He was in more emotional turmoil at the moment. He put his arm on his brother's back and pulled him into him.

"We're going to figure out a way to get rid of this thing, and it's not going to involve killing you. We'll find a way, Dean. We always do…"

He felt Dean nod his head but he felt like he had done it just to humor Sam. Even as he was suffering, he was still trying to let his brother have hope and take care of him. Sam patted Dean's back comfortingly as the two of them sat on the floor in silence, except for the sound of Dean's soft crying. Once he seemed to relax a bit, Sam looked up at the clock.

"Do you want to go back to the diner and get some coffee? We still have work to do…" Sam suggested in almost a whisper, as if he had been hesitate to speak.

Dean finally looked up at his younger brother with widened eyes. "You want to have coffee and research with me like this? Are we pretending that nothing just happened, is that it, Sam?"

"No, Dean. I'm not trying to pretend that nothing happened. We just need to figure out how to kill the Gaap without killing you along with it. It's not going to jump into anyone else. It wants to be in you because it knows how much it hurts me, and that's what it's trying to do. It's trying to make me turn on you. It's not going to do anything to anyone else. It's just… doing what Dad did. It taunts. I can handle the physical part of it and… it's not really saying anything that Dad hasn't," Sam tried to reason with him, feeling grateful that the blood had stopped coming up.

"That's still not good, Sammy. I don't think me out in public is a good idea right now. I think you should go do the research on your own. I'll stay here and research…"

Sam shook his head in disagreement. "That's not a good idea either. If it has full control of you and you can only fight it off for small amounts at a time, then it could make you kill yourself."

"Well, if it did that, then you wouldn't have to kill me, right?"

Sam sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "But it also knows that I wouldn't be able to go on without you. It'd kill itself obviously along with you but… it knows that it would've done what it set out to do."

"Stop being a martyr, Sam! Don't be an idiot. You're not going to kill yourself if the Gaap kills me…"

Sam stood up, wincing at the pain he knew would be ugly bruises by the next morning. "I'm not trying to be martyr, Dean! I'm just telling you how it is…"

Dean forced himself up and grabbed the blade out his brother's hand roughly before he threw it down on the bedside table that sat between them. "Our father might've been the biggest asshole of them all but one thing he did get right; we need to be out there fighting against those bastards that go bump in the night! If one of us dies, the other needs to carry on hunting! If this Gaap does make me kill myself, then you have to play either Highway to Hell or Stairway to Heaven at my damn funeral and move on! You need to keep hunting because no one else is going to get rid of all those demons out there!"

Sam was only half surprised at Dean's angry statement. He knew that his brother wouldn't stand for Sam also killing himself but he at least had expected Dean to feel humble that Sam wouldn't want to live without him. "There are other hunters, Dean! It's not like we're the only ones!"

"There may be other hunters out there but we're the damn Winchesters! We're the ones all the monsters fear in the night! They pass on the story of us to warn the others about us… we need to keep hunting, Sammy, even if one of us is long gone," Dean explained, his anger turning into something lighter.

Sam was too tired to fight his brother now, the pain becoming almost searing. He just shrugged and nodded. "Fine, okay. I'll keep hunting if something happens to you."

"Swear on it, Sam."

"Dean – "

"Do it, Sam!" He yelled as he grabbed his own pocketknife and cut his hand. He tossed it to Sam who had to lean over and catch it.

He sighed as he cut his hand and shook hands with his brother firmly, combining their blood. Sam was well aware how childish it probably looked but their blood ran deeper than most. They were the Winchesters and most everything they did involved blood, heart, and soul. Blood was as good as ink to paper for them.

"Good… that settles it then. Hey, uhhh…. You don't think I passed the Gaap onto you just now, do you? I mean, what if he can pass through open wounds or something?" Dean asked nervously.

Sam wet his lip and shook his head. "He's not hepatitis, Dean. He's a demon. It takes more than a cut to get him out of someone. Now, are you up for that coffee yet?" He put his laptop into a bag and zipped it up.

"I just got possessed by a demon and you're jonzing for a caffeine kick. Are you sure you're not the one possessed by a demon?" Dean grabbed his car keys and started to head towards the Impala outside.

Sam half-limped, half ran out to the driver's side to beat Dean there, holding the laptop bag in his hand.

"What are you doing, Sam? You know that only I drive my baby…"

"Yeah but… are you sure that's a good idea, man? I mean, what if the Gaap comes back when you're driving and decides to drive us both off a bridge or into a tree or something?"

"Sam…" Dean warned.

"What about that promise we just made inside? About one of us needing to continue to hunt if the other one dies?"

Dean tongued his cheek and scoffed before he tossed Sam the keys. "How did I know that was going to come back and bite me in the ass?"

Sam sat down in the driver's seat and put the key in the ignition just as Dean got inside. He tentatively put his hands on the foreign steering wheel once it roared to life and smirked at his brother. "I bet this is one of your worst fears, isn't it?"

Dean looked beyond uneasy now and he took a deep breath. "You break my baby, scratch her, or run her too hard, I'll be the one to kill you, not the Gaap."

Sam smirked and then turned on the radio, tuning it until he found a song he liked and he knew his brother hated.

"Sammy… we're not really going to do this, are we?"

"What's that thing you always said to me? Oh yeah, driver chooses the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole," Sam chuckled when he heard Dean groan and then started to drive towards the diner.

He couldn't deny that he longed to go somewhere outside this town but as far as they were concerned, their case wasn't over yet. The Gaap was still alive and holding Dean hostage. Sam needed to find a way to get this demon out of him. As if Dean could read his thoughts, he spoke up.

"You know, as much as I hate to say it, we could always call Dad. We could get his take on this whole Gaap-living-inside-me business…"

Sam subconsciously put his foot down harder on the gas. "There's no point. I already know what he's going to say, Dean. He's going to tell you to somehow transfer it into me, and then stab me with the demon knife. He'd rather sacrifice his useless son rather his favorite."

Dean rolled his window down with the hand crank and shook his head. "Man, you need to stop that shit, Sammy. He might've abused you but there's some part of him that still loves you, deep down."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh yeah? What makes you say that?"

Dean looked over at his brother. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

Sam couldn't deny that but he just couldn't believe that John Winchester actually felt something other than complete hatred for him. All the words he screamed in Sam's ears as a child and then in his head every night, all day, words that Sam had grown to actually believe himself, words that antagonized his own severe depression, pushing him to even feel suicidal. This was the same man who loved him? He found that difficult to swallow, as much as he wanted to. The rest of the drive was quiet until they arrived at the diner and found a booth to sit at, opposite each other and only occasionally bouncing ideas back and forth off each other.

"Wait, so how did I manage to get it?"

Sam looked up from his researching and waved his hands. "It was probably from the shower. That's water still in the pipes, it's still town water, right?"

"Well, I guess, but… why isn't the whole town possessed by this thing then? I hate to suggest that the town stinks but… you would think if everyone showered, at least one person would be possessed every day," Dean thought aloud.

Sam chewed on his lower lip in thought. "Maybe but… it's obviously picky about who gets possessed. It said that it's trying to teach people lessons and how they hurt the ones they love. It only chose the ones that he felt needed to be… woken up, for lack of a better word."

"Oh, that's nice. That's… real sweet of this demon…" Dean responded sarcastically.

Sam ignored him and went back to his research. He looked up after ten minutes of complete silence to see Dean slumped over against the wall. He straightened up and glanced around to make sure no one was watching them before he leaned over.

"Dean!"

His body perked back to life but his eyes were solid again. Sam felt his heart sink and he searched his face. "Don't do this right now! I need my brother!" He hissed in a whisper, trying not to cause attention.

"Sorry, ol' chum but I figured this would be a good time to remind you that the only way to get rid of me is to kill your own flesh and blood. I bet this would be a lot easier if I somehow got inside your Daddy, wouldn't it?" The Gaap smirked, making Sam start to feel sick. "Also, if memory does serve, I think I recall you telling me to wait right before I gave your brother back to you…"

Sam sighed and sneered at Gaap-Dean. "Okay, look. You're playing a game. Well, I'm joining in. Transfer yourself to me. I won't even try to stop you. Just get out of Dean…"

The Gaap looked almost too amused now and he leaned back in his seat. "Well that's an interesting thought but that'd be too easy to take you over. Dean has some fight in him still when you've completely given up on life. I would just be doing you a favor since you're suicidal anyway! Where's the fun for me in that?"

Sam hated that the Gaap knew his thinking but he also knew in his heart that he'd rather be possessed that have his brother go through it. Dean had much more going for him and even if Sam died, Dean was the stronger one. He could move on easier and he'd have their father to fall back on, and there was always Bobby to take care of him too. Things would be easier for him. Sam didn't feel like he had the drive to even go on living, but knowing he had to get this demon out of his brother pushed him more than he wanted. It was motivation to live, if only it meant until the Gaap was out.

"Aww, and I was having so much fun…" The Gaap's dark eyes started to flicker between Dean's green ones again.

Sam swallowed hard. "Just tell me quickly. Is there a way to get you out without killing Dean?"

The Gaap shrugged but smiled coldly. "Maybe. You'll just have to figure it out, won't you, Sammy?"

The name hit him too close to home and he felt relieved when Dean came back again. He watched as his brother looked around and then took a few deep breaths to relax himself. He cleared his throat. "So, uhh… what did it say?"

Sam turned his focus back to his computer. "There's another way to get it out without killing you, and I think I've found it."


	7. Demon's Eye

**A/N****: Thanks for the input, guys! I know it seemed like a small, insignificant thing of me to ask you but I really appreciate it! **

**Here's the next chapter!**

* * *

Sam sighed heavily as the sun began to set and it was only himself and his brother at the diner now. They had spent most of the day trying to find an exorcism spell. It was a last resort but Sam could think of worse last resorts than exorcising the Gaap. He occasionally glanced up at Dean, waiting for him to be controlled by the demon that was living inside of him. Sam hadn't heard from the Gaap since earlier but Dean was looking run down and exhausted, regardless of the only thing he'd done was sit there and have a piece of cherry pie.

Sam looked a bit nervously at his brother before he stood up. "Umm... I'll be right back." He walked towards the restrooms and entered it before he dialed Bobby's number hesitantly.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Bobby's voice. _"Sam?"

"Bobby! I'm so glad I was able to reach you… something's happened –"

"You're damn right something happened! Your father called me thinking you two might've told me how long you were going to go on your while demon chase up there! I just told him that you guys would come home when the job was done, just like always but he didn't seem to believe me, for some reason… would you like to give any feedback on this?" Bobby's angry voice cut across him.

Sam wanted to throw the phone at the wall but he knew that wouldn't do any good. He didn't know how much more throwing his phone could handle anyway. "Bobby! It's Dean!"

"Dean? What happened to Dean?" Sam heard Bobby's voice soften and turned to genuine concern.

_Bobby doesn't even care about you. No one does. They only care about Dean because he's the better, smarter, stronger son. _

Sam ignored the voice that was hissing in his head. "He's been possessed by the Gaap demon that's been killing and hurting people around here! I-I don't know what to do here, Bobby! It hasn't taken on full possession of him and Dean's fighting it as hard as he can but it's unpredictable!"

A sigh and silence on the other end. "Well, what damage has he done so far? Has he said anything?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair as he paced in the men's room, hoping no one would enter. "He hasn't hurt anyone else or Dean if that's what you mean but my brother's not looking too hot right now! I can tell he's feeling like crap and all the demon's said to me is that I have to kill Dean in order to kill the Gaap too!"

"Obviously that's not an option…"

"You think, Bobby?" Sam kicked one of the olive green stalls nearby. "The only other idea I had was exorcising it but I can't do that by myself! Dean's a lot stronger than he usually is because of the Gaap inside him and I need some backup here!"

"Alright, alright… calm down, Sam. We'll think of something. We gotta. Why don't you ask your father to come up there and help you? I'm all tied up around here getting rid of a poltergeist…"

Sam fought the urge to scream at the man who seemed more of a father than their own actual father. Bobby hardly ever got on his nerves but everything just seemed ten times worse because of Dean's predicament. "It's a long story… we need you! We need you to drive up here and help Dean before this Gaap takes on full possession!"

"Damn it, Sam! Don't you think I want to do that? I told you, I'm in the middle of my own case down here and I can't drive up there and help you two idjits! Whatever quarrel you've got with your father is going to need to be pushed aside! Buck up your courage and call him!"

"Wait!" Sam shouted, afraid Bobby was going to hang up on him. "Can you at least tell me if I can transfer Dean's Gaap into me?"

"You're really playing with fire now, boy. Are you serious? Tell me, is Lucifer still in your head or is this stupid idea entirely thought up by you?"

"I'm serious, Bobby! I can't do an exorcism spell by myself but I know I can do a transferal alone! Dean's the smarter one, you know it's true… he'd be able to figure out a way to get the demon out!" Sam tried to convince him, his heart racing in his chest.

"Don't you even think about doing a transferal spell, Sam! I mean it," Bobby growled in frustration. "Call your damn father and exorcise it out of Dean! I'd come up there if I could, but I can't! Goodbye, Sam."

The sound of his uncle hanging up was the most depressing sound to Sam. He felt his fingers shaking as he hung up too and then waited for a bit before he forced himself to call John, feeling like he was at his wit's end.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. _"Hello?"

He knew it shouldn't have surprised him that his father didn't have Sam on his Caller ID but it still hurt. "Uhh, hey, it's me. Dean's in trouble and you need to come up here so we can do an exorcism on him…"

His father was silent for several moments, making Sam almost ready to ask if he was still there. "Sammy, I can't do that. You're going to need to do a transferal spell. I know you know it because I've taught it to you and Dean a thousand times and now you need to use it."

Sam clenched his teeth, swallowing hard. "Dad, no. Just come up and we can do the exorcism…"

He heard his father make pounding noises on the other end and could tell he had hit his old oak desk hard. "Damn it, Sam! You got both of you into this! This is your responsibility! You need to do the right thing and help your brother! An exorcism will just make it go into someone else in the town. It's a temporary solution to a long-term problem!"

Sam took a shaky breath, beginning to pace again. "Please, Dad! I'm asking you for your help. I never ask you for help and this is the only time I've ever done it!"

John sighed heavily on the other end and his voice softened. "Sam, I'm helping Bobby with a case. You need to do this on your own, son. If there was ever a time that you wanted to get my approval, now's the time. Transferring a demon into yourself is a suicide mission. It's harder to get it out after and most of the time, the demon'll drain you down to your last drop of hope and it doesn't end well. You know this; you've seen this happen, Sam. I'm telling you to do a transferal spell though. Sacrifice yourself and save your brother… that's what you can do to finally get my approval. Understand?"

Sam had a feeling deep inside that his father would be like this. He knew his father would tell him to do a transferal spell. It's what he wanted; John wanted him dead, but he wanted him dead by Sam's own hand. For some reason, he got a sick pleasure out of this idea and likewise, it made Sam sick himself.

He took a deep breath. "Thanks for all your help, Dad. Really appreciate it. You know, I knew you wouldn't come up here for me, but… I thought since Dean's your favorite you might just make an exception."

Without letting his father reply, Sam hit 'end call' on his phone and shoved it back into his pocket. He ran his hands through his hair and then walked out of the restrooms and back over to where Dean was leaning against the window. Sam sat down and looked him up and down. "How are you doing, man? You alright?"

"Oh I am just… peachy keen, Sammy. I was starting to think something happened to you in there; you were gone for so long," Dean grumbled tiredly, rubbing his head where a headache had started to form.

Sam took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his booth seat. "I called Dad. I wanted to ask him where we should go from here."

Dean straightened up slightly, perhaps out of hope. "And? What'd he say?"

"He said… we should do the transferal spell, transfer the demon out of you and into me. He can't come up here to do an exorcism," Sam answered, purposely deciding against telling his brother about how he called Bobby first.

The transferal spell was what Sam had been planning to do anyway. He loved his brother but he was having a difficult time trying to just stay alive and function like a normal human being. His depression seemed to want to try and drown him any chance it got.

As he predicted, Dean instantly started shaking his head, pursing his lips together. "No, we're not doing a transferal spell, no way in hell."

"It's the only other way to get it out of you without an exorcism. If we do it, then you'll be able to come up with some way to get out of me. You're stronger than me, Dean. You're smarter, you think on your feet. You and Bobby can probably find something –"

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. "You're smart too, Sam. I'm not doing it. I'm sorry, but… it's good as suicide and I'm not letting this thing hurt you like it's hurting me…"

Sam leaned over now. "It wouldn't be permanent! Once Bobby's done doing whatever case he's doing right now, he'd help us! It's just so you can get a break from the demon long enough to contact him or do some research and find a solution."

Dean suddenly slammed his fist on the table, causing Sam to jump slightly. "No! No, damn it! Obviously Dad's not thinking straight right now and I'm not an idiot. I know it's because he hates you… that's the only reason why he wants us to do the transferal but I'm not doing it, Sammy! I'm not!"

Sam looked down at his hands and started to distractedly pick the skin around his cuticles. There was just too much of John's temper in Dean for his liking; it made him uncomfortable. He just nodded slowly. "Alright… fine. We won't do it. You look beat though, Dean. Let's go back to the motel and get some rest."

Dean seemed to accept this offer and shakily stood up. Sam laid some money on the table for the waitress and helped his brother out of the diner until he saw his brother try to shove him away.

"I can walk, Sam! I don't need a personal escort! Just leave me alone, man…"

Sam put his hands up in his impatience and walked past him towards the Impala. His brother's groans stopped him in his tracks, though. He turned around to see Dean had fallen down onto his knees. Sam sighed and walked back over to his brother before he placed one arm underneath his arm and helped him back onto his feet. He didn't let go though as he made him walk quickly towards the passenger side, seeing the effect the demon was having on him. He was just surprised the Gaap hadn't made an appearance since earlier, but he counted himself lucky.

Once he had gotten Dean situated in the seat and had driven them back to the motel, Sam half-carried his brother into their room and carefully released him onto his own single bed. He stood there, watching Dean curl into the pillow and grimace every once in a while.

"Hey, Sammy… could you grab me some aspirin? My head feels like it's going to explode."

"Yeah, of course, Dean," he first placed a glass of water on the bedside table that separated their beds before he walked into the bathroom.

He took out the orange prescription pill bottle that Dean had gotten for him when Lucifer had made himself at home inside of Sam. They wouldn't help headaches but they might sedate Dean long enough for Sam to go through with his plan. He took out two white rounded shaped tablets and carried them back to Dean, holding them out.

"Here you go, man. These should help your headache…"

Dean nodded gratefully to his brother and swallowed the pills with the water eagerly. He rolled over onto his back and looked at Sam. "We're going to figure out a way to kick this Gaap's ass, you hear me? I don't know what we're going to do yet, but we'll think of something."

Sam just nodded and sat on the bed, waiting for the pills to kick in. He watched his brother's form until he saw his even breathing, his chest rising up and down in smooth strokes. He bit his lip and then quietly grabbed the demon blade from under his mattress and walked over to Dean's bag to grab their father's logbook. He turned the pages until he found the transferal incantation he had to say with it.

He took a deep breath, looking at the words that were scribbled in Latin before he moved over to his brother. "I'm sorry, Dean," he whispered. He then slid the knife against his lower arm, hissing slightly in pain before he then made a quick cut into his brother's arm in the same spot. He watched Dean stir and then look groggily over at Sam before his eyes widened in fear and anger.

"Don't do it, Sammy… d-don't!"

Sam grabbed his brother's arm firmly now to hold it in place just as Dean started to struggle in his drug induced state. He looked back down at the writing and began to recite. "Hie cogar Daemone. Daemonio in me confero. Et ex hoc nunc et usque in aeternum, et in castra libero!"

Just as he spoke the last word, he saw black smoke creep out of Dean's open wound and almost slither into his own, moving up his arm and then going through his chest. He stumbled backwards and then fell to his knees on the cheap carpet. He hurriedly ripped off a long piece of fabric from his shirt before he tied it around his lower arm several times and knotted it so the Gaap couldn't escape back into his brother.

Dean watched on in horror as the Gaap moved throughout Sam's body, and cringed when he heard Sam groan in pain before panting to catch his breath. He staggered off the bed and towards his brother cautiously, watching him.

"S-Sam! Sammy… speak to me!"

Suddenly, Dean watched as his brother's hazel eyes flickered and then became a solid black color as the Gaap took over. "Oooh yeah! This is nice! This is better… no offense, Dean, but it wasn't fun living inside a hobbit. I much prefer living inside this giant. Man, Lucifer wasn't kidding! Sammy Winchester really is the place to possess…" Gaap-Sam grinned as he made a shaking-out-the-limbs motion.

Dean felt every hope that maybe his brother spoke a single word of the incantation wrong go out the window and felt himself deflate before he found newfound anger rise up from inside of him. "Get the hell out of brother right now! GET OUT OF HIM!"

Gaap-Sam went into the bathroom as he looked in the mirror to check himself out before he brushed back Sam's brown hair and walked back out to where Dean was. "Nah, that's alright. This feels rather comfortable anyway… besides, this was what he wanted so I'm actually helping ol' Sammy here, wouldn't you say?"

Dean tongued his cheek in disbelief and rage before he moved closer to the Gaap. "You get out of there or I'll make you myself…"

Gaap-Sam let out an amused laugh now. "Really? Tell me, Dean… where are you going to make me leave? I know that you can't do an exorcism all by your lonesome, and I know that you wouldn't put me back inside you! You don't have the same spunk with the incantations like Sam has! He knows more than you in that area at least. I can't say much for anything else though…"

Dean swallowed hard, trying to think quickly. As much as he hated to admit it, the Gaap was right. It must know everything Sam knows, everything he feels. He felt alone, really alone now. Sam's body was here but he wasn't. Their father didn't want anything to do with them, and Bobby was working on his own case. They really were as alone as they always felt.

"There must be another way," Dean muttered, more to himself than the demon, feeling more and more frustrated by the minute.

The Gaap smirked at him but it seemed so foreign to Dean, seeing his brother smirk. His brother rarely smirked. Hell, he hardly ever smiled but when he did, it had the ability to brighten up his day. This smirk didn't belong to Sam. It belonged to something more sinister.

"Must there be?" The Gaap taunted him.

Dean clenched his jaw now and he looked at his brother desperately. "Sam! Sammy, fight this! I know you can… fight this, Sam!"

Gaap-Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Don't you understand, Dean? He doesn't want to fight! He's tired of fighting… he just doesn't have it in him anymore. Why do you think he did the spell in the first place? He _wants _to die. He's tired of living. He's tired of your father. He's tired of always listening to you."

"N-No… shut the hell up! Shut up!"

The Gaap made Sam smirk twistedly again. "He's tired of always living in your shadow because you both know you're Dad's favorite, Dean! Can't say I blame him though… Sam's not much inside. He's not strong, not mentally. He's got a load of baggage in here, man… I'm surprised there's room for me! He did this so he could get your father's approval, did you know that? It wasn't out of brotherly love or anything, just to clear things up."

Dean grabbed the demon blade that was on the bedside table and gripped it in his hand before he walked closer to Gaap-Sam. He had no intentions of stabbing his brother in the chest but it felt good to be able to hold something he could control. He watched as the Gaap forced Sam's hand towards his own and moved the demon sword so it was resting against Sam's chest, over where his heart was beating.

"Go ahead, Dean… do it. You know it's the only other way to get rid of me by yourself. Stab your brother and kill me. I'll be gone forever!"

Dean tried to force his hand and the blade away from Sam but the Gaap's grip was stronger than his. He felt the Gaap demon force the knife deep enough into Sam's chest where blood was starting to drip out slowly.

"NO! STOP IT!" Dean used both hands and forced the knife out but it physically pained him to see Sam bleeding like that without properly reacting to the shallow wound.

The Gaap grinned again and put his arms out like he was being nailed to a cross. Dean might've laughed at the irony on a different occasion but this situation hit too close to home for him. "You really have no idea the inner demons your brother's fighting, do you? I mean, forgive the pun and all. I mean… up here," the Gaap made Sam point to his head with two fingers. "Depression, suicidal ideation, flashbacks, man! It's like an all you can eat buffet in here!"

Dean took a shaky breath as his eyes filled with tears. He searched his brother's face. "C'mon, Sam! You can fight this… I know you can, damn it! Fight this… fight it for me!"

The Gaap was about to roll his eyes and laugh again when Dean saw the familiar hazel color of his brother's eyes flicker back and then stay like that like a switch had been turned on. He hurried over to his brother as he fell by the bed, groaning again.

"Sam… it's so good to have you back, brother."

Sam grimaced in pain as he rested his back against the bed. He looked at Dean. "I-I'm sorry, Dean… I know you didn't want me to do that but… I-I had to…"

"Oh yeah, that reminds me," Dean replied icily before he took the handle of the blade and hit it against of his brother's head, causing him to cry out in pain. "That's for going against MY orders! I don't even care that it was Dad's idea in the first place! I told you not to!"

Sam rubbed the spot where his brother had mildly punished him and then saw the wound in his chest. His eyes widened slightly and looked at Dean questioningly.

He instantly held up his hands in defense. "It's not what it looks like."

Sam looked at him and scoffed. "Dean! It looks like you stabbed me!"

Dean rolled his eyes playfully and then helped Sam get his shirt off. "Relax, you big baby. It's a pinprick! It's hardly even bleeding!" He stood up and went into the bathroom to get the first aid kit they brought with them from motel to motel, just in case, and started to work on his chest. "Besides, the demon made me do it. He's stronger than me, physically."

Sam just nodded in understanding, letting the situation drop. They were quiet for a bit as Dean applied antiseptic and a square shaped bandage on his chest. When he was done, he put the kit back and then sat back on his own bed, watching his brother tentatively.

"How you feeling?"

Sam shrugged. "Tired. Weak…"

"Depressed?"

Sam glanced up at him and then appeared ashamed as he looked back down at his hands. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "No. I'm fine."

"Don't try to bullshit me, Sam. The Gaap told me how you're feeling suicidal and everything," Dean replied warily.

Sam looked at his brother and sighed. "You know you can't trust what demons say. They say things to just get inside your head and mess with you. Even Dad told us not to listen to anything they say."

"Yeah, yeah. I know everything Dad said. He says a lot of crap for someone who's hardly there when we need him, doesn't he, Sammy? I've had it to just about here with Dad."

Sam looked up to see Dean lying down on his bed but still looking over at him with a softer expression on his face. "Well, join the club."

"Hey, Sam… are you feeling… you know, depressed at all? I know living with Lucifer and then dealing with all the shit Dad gave you couldn't have been easy -"

"I'm fine, Dean! Can we just… get some rest?"

Dean felt like just got his answer with his brother's sudden defensiveness and he began to feel scared. If Sam really was as depressed and suicidal as the Gaap made it sound, then Dean had more to worry about than just getting rid of the demon. It all made sense now; why Sam chose to do the transferal. It made sense that he'd also want to get their father's approval as well, even if that wasn't the whole reason why Sam did it. He knew full well how hard the possession would be on him, and Sam still took the risk.

"No, Sam. I want to talk about this right here and now, get it all out in the open…"

Sam sighed and reached up to shut the light off but Dean turned it back on. "What the hell, Dean? Are you afraid that we won't have time to talk about it some other time, what with all the chaos that's going on right now?" he asked, semi sarcastically.

Dean stood up now and hovered over is brother. "No! I'm afraid we won't have time to talk about it because of the damn demon that took up residence inside of you! You must have a death wish if you chose to do the transferal spell! There's no coming back from that! It's going to wreck you, Sam!"

Sam now sat up and rubbed his eyes, his body and mind already feeling drained. He rubbed the back of his neck before he dared to look up at his brother. When he saw the look in Dean's green eyes, he knew he had to tell him the truth, no matter how much he didn't want to. He was his brother, and he had a right to know what was going on.

"Yeah," Sam said quietly, nodding. "I've been feeling pretty run down, and… having flashbacks in my dreams of what Dad did. I'm not going to lie to you and say that I haven't thought about… killing myself, but I'm telling you that I'm okay right now. I have no… immediate plans or anything."

The tears that had been in Dean's eyes finally released themselves and fell in thin rivers down his cheeks. He shook his head, not wanting to believe what his younger brother was telling him. "Jesus, Sammy… why didn't you tell me about this? I-I could've helped you."

Sam started to pick anxiously around his cuticles again, no longer feeling brave enough to look into Dean's eyes. He felt like a coward, maybe that's all he really was after all. "I'm really sorry, Dean. I just… didn't think I could tell you. You're the strongest one of us. That's no secret, but I guess I didn't want to appear totally weak in front of you."

Dean wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands and let out a low chuckle. "Weak? I'm the one crying like a girl pmsing, man…"

Sam smiled a small smile and laughed softly. "I just couldn't stand to see you like you were with the demon inside of you. You didn't deserve it, and… Dad didn't really give me a choice or anything anyway. I just did the only thing I knew I could."

Dean nodded in understanding and then gently patted Sam's shoulder before nodding to his bandaged wound, feeling uncomfortable in his own weakness. "How you holding up?"

Sam nodded as well. "I think I'm gonna live." Right after he said these words though, his eyes appeared to be sad again, and then he stood up before he went into the kitchen.

Dean stayed where he was and sighed. "I knew what you meant, Sam. It's fine. Come back here…"

He heard his brother groan and then hit the counter before he heard his brother speak again. "Man, he fights harder than I like! It's more fun though, being inside the ones who still have that kick to live in them. I think he's gone for a bit longer now though so… what shall we do, Dean?"

Dean felt his heart sink into the pits of his stomach and felt more tears trail down his face. This time he did nothing to stop them.


	8. You Feel So Lonely You Could Die

**A/N****: This is a friendly reminder that reviewing gets you chapters faster. I love reviews and they give me warm fuzzies so pleeeease review!**

* * *

Dean stayed up with the Gaap all night long, waiting for him to fall asleep like he did the previous day but the demon seemed full of suppressed energy. He downed cups of black coffee, staring at the tall figure he knew as his younger brother but only seeing the solid blackened eyes of the Gaap inside of him. He wanted Sam back, his Sammy. The one he grew up with, the one he hunted with, the one he went to when he couldn't stand their father any longer.

"Come on, Dean… take me somewhere! I want to do something!"

Dean groaned and shook his head as he dialed John's number. "Shut up, for five minutes! I'm sick of hearing you bitch and moan! Just sit there and shut the hell up!" he replied angrily, watching the Gaap fall back onto the bed to watch TV as he heard his father pick up.

"Dean? Is that really you, son?"

He ran a hand through his hair, staring at Gaap-Sam. "Yeah, it's me. Thanks a bunch for helping Sam exorcise the demon out of me, by the way," he retorted sarcastically.

"Dean, I did it for your own benefit. You're strong but an exorcism would've taken a lot of you…"

He suddenly felt defensive and angry at their father. "Oh, but it's okay if Sam puts the demon into himself? What the hell, Dad? Why do you want him to die? I don't understand this little grudge you have against him! Why am I more important than him? We're both your sons!"

The Gaap glanced over at Dean and chuckled under his breath before looking back at the television. Dean swallowed hard, waiting for a response.

"Because you're stronger than Sam is! You're more valuable! You're stronger, mentally and physically! Tell me, Dean, is Sam even trying to fight the Gaap or are you and that demon roomies now? I bet you ten to one odds than you've seen more of the demon than your own brother! Sam's not as strong as you!" John yelled back at him into the other end.

"Well Christ, Dad, it couldn't be because you've abused him our whole lives, could it? He couldn't have such low self-esteem from your daily verbal abuse towards him! Of course not, because you love your sons equally, right?"

Dean knew that John couldn't deny it; he waited, wanting a good reason for John to deny him help.

A long sigh came instead. "He told you…"

"Of course he told me! Did you really think he'd keep a secret that deep, Dad? That's some heavy shit for anyone to carry on themselves… oh! You haven't even heard the best part! I had to stop Sam from shooting himself in the damn head! You destroyed him! This is your fault and I blame you for him doing the transferal spell! You need to come here right now and help me exorcise this damn demon out of him! I don't care what the hell you're doing right now but I dare you to tell me there's something more important than saving your own son from his own self-destruction!" Dean raged to his father, his breathing heavy.

"Dean, you're an adult now, you don't need me saving you boys anymore. You can figure this out on your own."

Dean could feel his hands shaking. All he wanted to do was punch his father over and over again. He wanted John to feel the pain he caused both of them. He wanted it more than anything. "You son-of-a-bitch -"

"Dean… watch it, son…" John spoke in a warning tone in his voice.

"No! You're going to listen to what I have to say. For years, you told Sam and I just how important we were and how we had to look out for each other, and now you're telling me that you value one of your sons over another, regardless of us both having the same blood running through our veins! I can't believe you! I hope you fucking rot in hell, you heartless bastard!"

_Clink. _John had hung up on him, but Dean really didn't care. It felt good to yell and scream at his father but he realized that he still needed help with getting the demon out of Sam. He waited a bit and then looked over at the Gaap who looked like he was asleep.

"Sammy?" Dean tried, experimenting.

"Sammy's not here right now. Leave a name and message and he'll get back to you as soon as he can –"

Dean sighed. "Alright, alright… yeah yeah, just… shut up and watch your damn TV," Dean interrupted before he dialed Bobby's number.

"Dean? You okay, boy?"

He couldn't lie; he felt a sense of relief when he heard his Uncle's voice. It felt more like home than their real father's voice, as much as that hurt to admit. He cleared his throat. "Uhh… yeah, hey, Bobby. How's your case going? Are you almost done yet with it?"

"Actually, yeah. I am. Your father helped me get rid of the poltergeist. It… went better than expected. Since you're talking to me, I'm going to assume Sam was an idjit and did the transferal spell even after I told him not to!" Bobby's stern voice spoke through the phone.

Dean smirked slightly. "Yeah, he did it but… only because John wouldn't come and help him exorcise it out of me. He was only doing what he thought was the right thing. That's actually why I'm calling now. Do you think you can drive on up here and help me kick this demon's ass, once and for all? I'm sick of being stuck in the motel room with it."

"Has it done anything serious to Sam?"

"Well, to be honest, Bobby… it keeps talking to him and trying to get him to kill himself. I need to get him some antipsychotics or antidepressants or something because he's not doing so great. Can you get up here and help me?" Dean repeated, needing some reassurance.

There was a short pause on the other line before he heard Bobby speak. "Look, I can get up there but I'm going to need at least twenty-four hours to get the materials for an exorcism."

"What do you need? I have the holy water, the salt to make the circle, and the words that need to be spoken! I just can't speak it!"

"Well look at you, aren't you special, Dean? I just… have things to do here but I promise I'll be there in twenty-four hours! Just give me time to get what I need to do done here!"

Dean was about to object when he heard Bobby hang up on him and he swore under his breath. It was progress. At least Dean got him to agree to come to Topeka to exorcism the demon out of Sam. He hung up the phone too and looked over at his brother.

"Sammy… please fight through it. I need you… I need to talk to you," Dean nearly begged. "You can fight through it, you need to. For me…"

Instead, the Gaap grinned from ear to ear and laughed. "Sam's not feeling too well inside this meat suit. He's getting tired of fighting. In fact, he just wants to give up completely. Looks like it's just you and me for the next few hours, kid!"

Dean closed his eyes, wanting to wake up from this bad nightmare and feeling somewhat bitter towards Sam for not wanting to fight through it anymore. He felt alone and he hated this feeling more than anything. He looked back over at Sam and saw dark circles under his eyes and he could see his hands shaking. It was evident that his brother was getting weaker and weaker from the Gaap being inside of him. He sighed and rubbed his own tired eyes.

"Well, you need to eat so let's see what we can find…"

Dean stood up and headed over to the kitchen area of the room where he started to rummage through the cabinets in search of food. He heard the Gaap stand up and walk over towards where he was.

"He's not allowed to eat, not as long as I'm in him. He needs to learn his lesson…"

Dean felt his stomach twist uncomfortably as he found a can of soup and then dumped its contents into a pot from under the sink. He turned the burner on underneath it and let it simmer before he turned to the demon. "Yeah, and what lesson is that?"

Gaap-Sam walked closer to Dean, too close for comfort and felt a sinking feeling when he felt the demon brush Sam's fingers across his jaw. "That he can't always lean on you for help… you both must learn that you can't always be attached to the hip! He must pay for trying to take me out of you. He's too attached to you. He loves you too much, it seems. Quite sad, really… he'll never be his own person. He'll always be walking in your shadow, Dean…"

Dean felt a cold chill run through him and shivered involuntarily. He smacked Gaap-Sam's arm away from him, his touch almost burning him with its uncomfortableness. He took a step back before he started to stir the soup as it heated up. "You don't know what you're talking about, Gaapy. He's in no one's shadow except his own! And there's nothing wrong with helping family. That's what blood does for blood," he spoke matter-of-factly.

The Gaap made a _hmmmph _sound as he continued to grin and hang around Dean, placing his hand on Dean's back. "If you only knew how he _really _wants you though… it's cute, almost. You have no idea that he's tired of being just brothers. He longs to be… something more."

Dean swallowed hard and shoved the Gaap hard but he barely moved. Having the demon inside Sam ultimately made him stronger than himself. He shook his head and clenched his jaw tightly. "You're sick… you don't know Sam at all. He's not like that."

"Wow, you really don't know your own brother at all! I think I know him better than _anyone._ Why do you think he wants to kill himself so badly? Unrequited love. He loves you, like… really loves you, but he knows you'd just think him sick and twisted and you don't love him back. That's why he wants to die. I can't blame him, though…"

Dean suddenly pulled back his hand, turning it into a fist before he punched his brother hard, knocking the Gaap out, along with Sam. He instantly regretted his actions but he couldn't think of what else he could've done. He didn't want to hear any more filth from this demon. He was tired of it acting like it knew Sam more than he did but the thought lingered in the back of his mind. What if it was right? What if that was the root of Sam's depression? He didn't know how he would react if Sam confessed this issue with him. What could he say? What could he do? Not a whole lot, and what Sam really did try to kill himself again once Dean told him he didn't feel that way about him, and how wrong it was?

He forced himself to turn back around once he saw blood trailing down Sam's face from his lip and stirred the soup. Once he saw it bubbling, he turned the burner off and scooped some into a small bowl for himself. He moved over to the table and sat down at it, forcing himself to eat. Dean felt sick though as he watched his brother lay motionless on the floor, bleeding. He felt helpless and disgusted by his own actions. He tried to convince himself that it hadn't really been his brother he knocked out though; that it had been the demon, but this did little to calm him from his own thoughts.

He used his bowl to fill it with more soup for Sam once he came to and then placed it on the table before he kneeled beside his brother on the floor. He gently slapped his bony cheeks. "Sam! Sammy… please still be in there. Sam!"

"W-What…? What is it?" a groggy Sam groaned, trying to shield the fluorescent lights from his eyes.

Dean breathed a silent sigh of relief before he looked back down at Sam. "Come on, man. I made some soup and you need to eat something." He grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him up, surprised at how easy it was.

Sam walked over to the table and sat down before he felt a pain in his lip. He pressed his hand to his lips and looked at Dean questioningly when they came away bloody. He grabbed a napkin and held it there. "What the hell, Dean?"

He chewed on his own lips and sat down across from him. "Sorry about that, Sammy. I just… couldn't take the demon anymore. He was annoying."

"So you knock me out cold? Jesus, I could've hit my head on something on the way down!"

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. "But you didn't, so quit whining and eat your damn soup."

Sam took the napkin away and brought the spoon to his lips. He swallowed it but his throat felt so dry. He nodded in appreciation of having food in his stomach. As quickly as the warm food went down though, he felt nauseous and felt it coming back home. Sam nearly knocked the table over as he ran towards the bathroom, making it just in time to empty his nearly empty stomach into the toilet. He heard Dean run towards the bathroom too but all he could do was concentrate on the pain he felt as the couple spoonfuls of soup came up and then bile. He thought he was done once the bile came up but then a crimson red color came up as well and mixed with the yellow and gray colors in the toilet bowl. His insides felt like he had swallowed knives and they had poked holes in his intestines.

Dean wet a cold washcloth and then placed it on Sam's head, gently dabbing it on his face. "Just relax, Sammy. You'll be okay…"

Sam let him do this against everything he wanted. He didn't have the energy to fight Dean off and the cool cloth felt nice against his feverish forehead. He sunk against the base of the tub and cringed in pain. "Y-You don't know t-that, Dean… I feel like I'm dying…"

"Of course you do. You've got a demon inside of you, Emily Rose. It's not going to be a pleasant experience. How do you think I felt when the Gaap was inside of me?" Dean asked rhetorically, still gently dabbing his brother's head.

Sam was quiet for a long time; Dean had to look down to make sure Sam wasn't asleep or had turned back into the Gaap. Finally he had to ask Sam the question that had been nagging him for the past couple of hours.

"Sammy? I need to ask you something…"

Sam ran a hand through his damp, sweat matted hair and looked up at Dean. "Shoot…"

Dean cleared his throat, feeling foolish for asking this question. "Do you… uhh… love me, Sam? I mean, in more than a brotherly way?"

Sam's eyebrows furrowed as his eyes widened in surprise. "Umm… no, Dean. I don't. You're my brother and I love you but… you know, in a… brotherly way. Why? Do you -"

Dean shook his head. "What? God no. I mean, I love you in the same way…"

Sam nodded slowly. "Good. Why did you think I….?"

"The Gaap just… got into my head, I guess. He told me that's why you felt depressed and wanted to kill yourself. Unrequited love or… something," Dean shrugged, feeling a bit lighter now.

Sam sighed and shook his head before he laid on the bathroom floor, his energy feeling depleted. His bones ached and he still couldn't get over his nausea. Dean watched him and didn't say anything until he saw Sam curl into his body.

"C'mon, Sam. Let's get you back in bed… you'll feel more comfortable," Dean urged, trying to lift his brother up.

Sam shook his head insistently and stayed where he was. "No, Dean. In case I need to throw up again, I'm not going to have the energy to run to the bathroom. Just let me stay here…"

"Well, that's why God made garbage cans. You should at least be somewhere you'll be comfortable, man…"

Sam tried to shake his brother off of him. "No… please, Dean. What difference does it make where I'll be most comfortable? I have a demon inside of me! I'm not going to be comfortable either way! Just let me die here! Damn it, Dean!" Sam shouted at him now.

This took him by surprise and he let go of Sam now. He watched Sam's pale face as he laid on his back on the bathroom floor. "You're my brother and I've let you make your own mistakes, no matter how many times I haven't wanted to, but you're still my little brother! I'd do anything for you. I'd kill for you, I'd live for you, I'd die for you but one thing I won't do is let you die! I'm not even sorry, Sam. You're not going to die anyway! I called Bobby and he's going to come up here and help get the Gaap out of you, so don't you dare give up now."

Sam coughed and then looked up at Dean with hopeful eyes. "Really? He said he was coming up here? When?"

Dean searched his brother's face, wishing he could help him himself. "He said within a day or so."

Sam's hope seemed to diminish a little and he rubbed his head where a headache was forming. "That's too long."

Dean shook his head. "It's worth it if it means we can you get you back. I'm willing to wait… don't you give up now, Sam. You don't realize it but just like how you need me, I need you too."

Sam's eyes looked doubtful as he forced himself to sit up, despite what his muscles were telling him. "I appreciate the sentiment but you don't mean it. Don't lie to me if you're just trying to make me want to keep living like this. You don't need me. You've never needed me. I've always been the one who needed you, _always. _You've always been the stronger one."

Dean's eyes softened and he took a deep breath. "You're not the weakest link between us, Sam. I don't care what Dad told you, but you're not. We're both weak alone, but it's together when we're the strongest. If it wasn't for you, I'd be long dead by now. You keep me grounded when I'm hell bent on going in there, guns blazing. You know Latin better than any other person I've ever met, even better than Dad! You just need to keep fighting, all right? I need you because there's no me if there ain't no you."

Sam seemed surprised by Dean's declaration but he also looked grateful for the words. He gave Dean a small smile, to let him know that he believed what his brother told him, tears in his green eyes. "Did Bobby finish his poltergeist case then?"

Dean nodded in affirmation. "Yeah, he said Dad helped him banish it. He said he needed to do something first before he came up here but he promised he would help me exorcise the Gaap from you."

"Okay, what about the antidepressants?"

Dean's heart sunk as he leaned against the sink, looking down at his brother who looked much younger than he was. "Let's deal with one problem at a time. Are the voices getting worse?"

Sam bit his lip but he shook his head. "It's the same. I had a thought though… what if… the Gaap tries to kill me when I'm under, when I'm being possessed by it?"

The thought had occurred to Dean but he couldn't let himself think about this. It wasn't something he wanted to happen, obviously, but he knew his brother's fear. "I won't let it, Sammy. I'm going to protect you, any way I can. Do you trust me?"

Sam didn't miss a beat. "Yes, of course. I trust you, Dean."

"Good, then you just rest up. Sleep as much as you can before it comes back. You're going to need your energy to fight it. Actually, stay here," Dean ordered as he took out the orange prescription bottle he knew Sam used to drug him and let two small pills fall out. He put the bottle back and then walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water before he returned to his brother. He held out the pills and water to him.

Sam looked reluctantly at both but quickly swallowed the sleeping pills with the water. "Is this pay back for me drugging you before?"

Dean smirked and chuckled. "Sure. I just figured as long as you're asleep, so is the Gaap. He didn't let either of us sleep a wink last night so let's both get some shut eye. I'll be right out here but if you need anything, just holler."

Sam nodded appreciatively and then watched as Dean walked over to his bed and grabbed the pillow from it before turning back to Sam. He looked up and took the pillow from him before he placed it on the cold tile. "Thanks, Dean."

"No problem. Go to sleep, little brother. I'll see you in the morning," Dean replied before he also threw the comforter from Sam's single bed over him too.

Sam could barely feel the cold tile; his whole body felt overheated. He waited until Dean was asleep to kick off the comforter and he breathed heavily, sweat beading his skin. Sam pulled off his shirt, hoping to get some relief. He could feel the Gaap under his skin, crawling and scratching to take him over again. This time, he tried to focus on his brother's words and tried to fight it.

"_We're both weak alone, but it's together when we're the strongest…" _

Sam curled into his body again, trying not to scream or wake Dean up. The pain had gotten worse, like he had hot needles prodding his bones and muscles every other second. He swallowed hard and gritted his teeth.

"_You just need to keep fighting, all right? I need you because there's no me if there ain't no you!" _

Sam felt a wave of nausea sweep over him again. He moved towards the toilet and only felt the coppery taste of blood in his mouth now as it jumped from his stomach into the toilet. His insides twisted like hot knives. He whimpered in the dark bathroom, trying to fight like hell to stop the inevitable from coming. He sunk back on the floor and closed his eyes tightly, scratching at the tile in pain and agony that engulfed him.

* * *

Dean woke up about an hour later, startled out of a nightmare that seemed too real for comfort. He sat up quickly, his instincts screaming at him to check on his brother. He didn't know where this feeling was coming from, but felt like it had to be a brotherly instinct. He stood up and walked into the dark bathroom. After he turned the light on, he felt all hope of saving his brother and the two of them returning home drain out of him.

Sam's body was on the floor and he saw the orange prescription bottle on the floor, along with a few of the round white tablets scattered on the floor. He fell next to his brother and turned him over, tears rising to his own eyes when he saw the ghostly white of Sam's face and the even more chilling blue tinge to his lips. He shook his head repeatedly, feeling his world crashing in on him.

"No! No! Sam! Sammy! Sammy, look at me! No!"

Dean heaved him up and held him over the toilet before he stuck two of his own fingers down his brother's throat to incite a gag reflex. "Come on, Sam! Don't do this! You promised… don't give up now… please… please don't be dead… oh god…"

A part of him felt relieved when he heard his brother gag and saw the pills coming up and into the toilet bowl. He continued to do this, his brother grabbing the bowl with his bluish fingers and gripping it tightly as he also tried to fight against Dean at the same time.

He didn't let up, tears falling freely down his cheeks as he watched the white pills look more ominous than the blood that was coming up with them. Dean kept trying to reassure himself that the blood was just the demon's doing and wasn't related to the pills. "Come on, Sammy… please don't do this to me… please… I need you! Oh God, why did you do this?"

Sam didn't reply as his reflexes forced himself to keep throwing up the pills he had ingested. He could hear the tremble and hoarseness of his brother's voice but only felt the pain of the pills as they were being heaved into the toilet. He was glad he couldn't respond to his brother's desperate questions because he didn't know the answers. He didn't know why he had swallowed half a bottle of pills. He didn't even remember doing it.

Dean took short breaks from forcing Sam to throw up when he saw his brother breathing again and the color coming back but he wasn't sure if he got all of it or not. He didn't want to take him to a hospital to get his stomach pumped; they'd send him to the other part of the hospital that no one ever talked about… the section where the suicidal people and the ones with mental disorders went. He didn't want to send him there just because of that; he was terrified what they'd do if the Gaape decided to come out at that time.

Dean continued to force the pills out until he was sure that there was only one or two left inside of Sam. At this time, he and Sam both collapsed on the floor. Dean's tears continued to flow but his anger had risen as well. He kicked at Sam's leg to get his attention and unleash some of the anger he felt. "W-Why? Why did you lie to me and tell me you'd fight against all of this when you tried to kill yourself anyway? Did our little pep talk earlier have no influence on you whatsoever?"

Sam moved his body so he could flush the toilet and then rested his back against it to look at his older brother. He searched Dean's hazel eyes pleadingly. "Dean, I-I swear to you… I had no idea what I did. I was fighting it! I was trying to fight against the Gaap when I felt it coming back! I'm sorry, Dean. P-Please… please don't hate me right now. I tried to fight it but I didn't try to kill myself. You have to believe me, Dean…"

Dean wiped the tears that had fallen down his cheeks on his sleeves and then swallowed hard. "You're saying it was the Gaap that made you try to OD on those pills? It wasn't you?"

Sam wasn't sure whether to shake his head or nod so he did neither. "It wasn't me. I kept thinking about what you said to me earlier and I was trying to fight the demon, Dean. I was… I-I don't know what else to tell you except that it wasn't me trying to kill myself."

Dean just nodded but he didn't look entirely convinced. The two men stared at each other from opposite sides of the bathroom, sitting in silence for what felt like years until Sam finally spoke up.

"T-Thank you, Dean… for saving me. I would've been dead if you hadn't woken up when you did."

Dean put his face in his hands and Sam was startled when he saw Dean's shoulders shaking. He straightened up and looked at him with concern, rarely ever seen his brother like this. "Dean? Are you… are you all right?"

Dean looked up now and shook his head as a sob escaped his throat now. He put his head back down, as if he was ashamed Sam was seeing him break down like this. "O-Of course I'm not all right, Sam! I almost w-watched you d-die!"

Sam felt guilt filling him up. It was his turn to look down, but in his own feelings of shame. He ran his fingers through his hair and then moved closer to Dean before he wrapped his arms around him as tightly as he could in his weakened state. He held him close as if Dean might disappear at any moment.

"I'm really sorry, Dean. I am… but I'm not dead, thanks to you…"

Dean stood up now, knocking Sam over slightly and cleared his throat to hide his crying. "I-I'm sorry, Sam. I…uhhh… I need to take a walk."

Sam stood up when Dean walked out of the bathroom and took a step out too just as Dean had opened the door. "Dean, where you going? It's… late."

His brother looked back at him. "I don't know, Sam. I don't know what's going on right now, or what the hell happened earlier with you but… I just… need to clear my head or I'm going to explode."

"What happened to me earlier? I told you, the Gaap took over and tried to kill me…"

Dean looked back at Sam with conflicted eyes. "From where I was, it looked like you tried to kill yourself. Look, Sam. Just say put and I'll be back in a bit. Don't go anywhere."

Before Sam could protest, Dean slammed the door and he was alone again with his thoughts. He moved over to his single bed and laid down, his muscles weak, his throat hot and sore, and his mind mentally exhausted. He shut his eyes, praying that maybe when he woke up, Dean wouldn't be mad at him anymore and that Bobby would be there. He hoped.


	9. Shout At The Devil

**Thank you to those good people who reviewed! I love reading them. I'm enjoying writing this story but it means a lot that there are others out there who are enjoying reading it. **

**Also, in my version of things, Sam and Dean's mother didn't die until Sam was 10 (and then obviously when Dean was 14). Just FYI. **

* * *

Sam reluctantly opened his eyes, still feeling physically drained from last night. Sweat matted his longish hair to his skull and made him feel increasingly uncomfortable. He forced himself up and glanced over to see his brother still fast asleep in his single bed. He trudged over to the bathroom and half closed the door before he stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature all the way to the right so it was felt cold and relieving on Sam's skin. He stood under it for a long time, sick of feeling a fever he couldn't shake with soup or sleep.

He heard a soft creak of the door as it was pushed inwards, and then a voice. "Sam?" a soft, almost nervous voice asked hesitantly.

He looked up from the mini shampoo bottle after squeezing some of it into his hands. "Yeah?"

Silence for several seconds and then a clearing of a throat. "Uhh… I need the razor that's in there. Mind passing it to me?"

Sam's eyes cast downwards where the blue Bic razor was resting on the bathtub shelf. Dean wasn't much for shaving if he wasn't interviewing witnesses or anything. Why did he want the razor? He lathered his hair with the shampoo before he grabbed the razor and handed it to Dean through the curtain. Just as he felt his brother grab the razor, he had a realization.

Dean was afraid Sam was going to attempt suicide again. That had to be it. Sam felt a sick feeling in his stomach as he let himself go back under the shower head to rinse the shampoo out. "You're in here to make sure I don't try to kill myself again," he spoke matter-of-fact rather than as a question.

"Damn right I am. Do you really think I'm going to just lay down and let you die? Not if I can do something about it. Are you almost done in there? I want to get myself some joe."

Sam sighed as he started to lather his body up, wanting to cleanse himself of the dirt before Bobby and Dean cleansed him of the Gaap later on. Just because he was possessed didn't mean that he was going to push hygiene to the back burner. He couldn't stand the grime that had built up on him since he did the transferal.

"So get some coffee. I promise I'm not going to commit suicide in the shower. There's literally nothing in here I could use anyway," Sam tried to assure him.

"Just finish up and we can grab some coffee together… but not at that shitty diner in this shitty town. If the Gaap comes back, I don't want to scare away the whole town," Dean replied as he leaned against the sink.

Sam didn't say anything as he rinsed off the soap from his body and then shut the water off. He dried himself in the shower with the curtain closed before he wrapped the bright yellow towel around his waist and got out. "Give me the razor, Dean… I need to shave."

Dean held onto the razor and shook his head. "Sorry, Sammy. No can do… looks like you're growing a beard until we can exorcise this bitch out of you."

Sam rolled his eyes and looked at his brother in exhaustion but let it drop. He walked out into the bedroom part where their drawers were and rummaged for a clean set of clothes. Both boys were quiet as Sam dressed and Dean went into the kitchen area to pour both of them coffee. Sam had finished pulling his t-shirt over his head and then down over the hem of his jeans as he heard Dean's voice again.

"So, uhh… I was thinking a lot last night and I believe you."

Sam walked over to Dean before he searched his face, trying to figure out if his brother meant it or if he was just bullshitting him. He ran a hand through his damp hair. "You do? Honest?"

Dean put one hand up as if he was swearing on a Bible. "Right hand to God, I believe you, man. I owe you an apology, Sam. I'm… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for not believing you when you told me it was the Gaap and not actually you who took all those pills. I was just… so upset and angry when I saw you lying on that floor, nearly dead. And you told me you were grateful that I saved you, you thanked me… and I could tell you meant it."

Sam was amazed Dean had spoken these words; he almost felt lightheaded. He nodded in appreciation. "Thanks, Dean… for believing me and apologizing. Really… I didn't want you to think that I took the pills on my own to leave you behind to rot or anything."

Dean looked at Sam a bit uncomfortably but nodded once before he walked over to the table and sat down with his coffee. Sam grabbed his mug and sat across from him, placing both hands on the mug.

"So… any update on Bobby?"

Dean looked up at him after taking a drink of his coffee. "No, but… he's coming. He'll get here when he gets here, Sammy. Trust me, no one wants this demon out of you more than me."

Sam nodded in understanding and sighed heavily. "What are we going to tell Dad?"

Dean shifted in his seat as he glanced over at the clock before looking back at his brother. "We're going back home and we're telling him he can shove it. After what you told me he did to you, I'm ready to plunge a stake through his heart and then salt and burn his corpse! We're going to tell him how strong you were, how you tried to fight it and you didn't give up. Seeing you alive will be the ultimate 'screw you' to him."

Sam bit his lip and gave him a weak smile before he took a sip of his coffee. His hands suddenly froze though and Dean looked up in time to see his green eyes flicker.

"Damn it! Sammy… Sam! Don't you dare give in it! Fight it back… just a little bit longer! Do you hear me? Fight back, Sam!" Dean shouted at him, fear in his voice.

Sam dropped his head into his hands and pulled at his hair, trying his best to fight against the Gaap. He growled and then grabbed the coffee mug again, trying to ground himself again with something safe and familiar. Dean watched he gripped the mug like he was holding it for dear life. His knuckles soon turned white but the rest of his hands were a hot red color.

_Crack! _

The coffee mug suddenly fell apart in Sam's tightened grip, boiling fresh coffee splashing on his long fingers and onto the rest of the skin on his hands, instantly causing it to blister with second degree burns. Sam let out a cry of pain and gasped as tears appeared in his eyes. The pain must have re-grounded Sam though because when Dean stood up to look at him, his eyes were no longer flickering but their normal solid emerald green color. A part of him felt relieved but his heart dropped when he saw the pained expression on his younger brother's face as he looked at his blistered hands.

"Sam, it's going to be alright! Come here, man… come over here. We'll get you fixed up," Dean gently grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him over to the sink before he forced Sam's hands under the cold tap water.

Sam hissed in pain and was about to jump back but Dean was firmly holding his wrists so he couldn't move away. Dean held them there for thirty seconds and then squeezed soap and gently tried to wash Sam's burned hands. He did this for a while and both of them watched as some of the burned skin dropped into the sink. He then grabbed a towel and gently patted Sam's hands dry before grabbing the frozen ice pack that was in the freezer part of the fridge. He moved Sam's hands so he was holding it.

"Sam? How does that feel? Is it feeling better or worse?"

Sam swallowed hard and nodded quickly. "B-Better, it feels better…"

"Alright, good. Sit down on the bed. I need to bandage your hands up," he ordered before he disappeared into the bathroom and then came back with antibiotic ointment.

He gently spread the ointment all over both of Sam's hands to cover the blistered areas and then carefully applied a white bandage to both, wrapping it around his thumb so it looked like Sam was wearing white gloves.

Sam didn't let his tears fall but cringed and groaned in pain as his brother bandaged him up. He suddenly felt like he was five years old and being helped by his father, but that image quickly vanished from his thoughts as he remembered how John had really treated him. He gave a grateful smile to Dean.

"Great, I can't even have coffee without hurting myself. Dean, I'm… really fucking scared. This demon's trying to seriously hurt me."

Dean wet his lips and nodded. "No kidding. Look, we just need to hold out for a few more hours and keep you safe. We can do that, okay? The pain made you come back and pushed the Gaap back. I know it's going to suck but when you feel that son-of-a-bitch hitting you, press down on your burns. It should ground you long enough to make you come back, okay?"

Sam nodded and looked down at his hands, hoping he wouldn't have to use Dean's advice. He took a deep breath to try and calm his pounding heart as it raced against his ribcage, as if the Gaap was somehow trying to cause Sam to panic and freak out. He looked over at Dean pleadingly.

"T-Talk to me?" he asked timidly, not wanting to give his older brother an order like their father would.

Dean's eyes became laced with concern and worry as he sat down beside him. "Yeah, sure, man. No problem… umm… hey! Do you remember that time when we were kids when Bobby dressed up as a clown for Halloween one year? Man, you screamed bloody murder every time you saw him!" Dean laughed heartily now.

Sam, however, remained serious as his Gaap-induced panic started to increase. He looked at his brother and shook his head. "That's not helping, Dean! You know I'm terrified of clowns, man… try again."

Dean put his hand over his mouth to hide his smirk and cleared his throat again to hide his laughter before he changed his tone. "Alright, okay… what about this one? Do you remember the week when Dad was out hunting and we were home with Mom, and Bobby tried to sneak into the house because he lost his house key and Dad had a spare? Oh man… Mom screamed so loud, it scared the crap out of me! Then, when we both went downstairs with our demon blades to investigate and then saw Bobby apologizing profusely to her? She was almost crying, I think… but she looked really relieved to see him, you know?" Dean's eyes glazed over with memory. "Bobby hugged her and… she put her head on his shoulder as she laughed about the situation…"

As Sam looked over at Dean, he could see the wheels turning in his head. He couldn't deny that he was thinking the same thoughts, though. He looked over at his brother. "Do you think if Dad had died, and Mom had lived… if Bobby would've gotten together with her?"

Dean's face looked like a mixture of curiosity, sadness and nostalgia. "I don't know, Sam. Maybe. Bobby would've made a better father than Dad. Sure, we'd still be hunting with him, but… he'd make time for us, no matter what. It ain't no secret; you can bet your ass that Bobby thinks of us as his own sons. That look in Mom's eyes that night though… it wasn't just relief. She felt something for him."

Sam's own mind trailed off now, wondering what life would've been like if their father had died and Bobby had taken over the role as their new father. How things would be different, if they would still be in this position. Maybe they would, but Sam also knew that Bobby would never lay a disrespectful hand on him, even in anger. He'd probably just yell and walk out but he'd always come back and try to get things right again between them; that was just Bobby Singer's way. Maybe Sam wouldn't be riddled with depression and hearing the voices he heard. It was interesting to think about, this alternate world where things would be better.

"Do you think she did, feel something for him?" Dean asked, breaking his brother out of his own thoughts.

Sam half shrugged in a non-committedly sort of way and looked at Dean. "Maybe, I don't know. I think that she was just thankful to have Bobby there when Dad couldn't be there for her. She deserved better than Dad, and I wouldn't have complained if Bobby had taken his place. Hell, we might've turned out better for it, but there's no changing the past, Dean. What happened, happened. Dad's a real bastard but we can't wish him away out of our lives, you know?"

Dean nodded and gave him a shy smile. "Yeah, I know. It's just a nice thought to think about. Anyway, how are you feeling? Better?"

"Yeah, I am. Thanks," Sam smiled, his heart no longer pounding hard but returning back to its usual beat. He looked back down at his hands and took a deep breath. "Do you want to get this show on the road? Maybe set a Devil's trap?"

Dean looked at his brother with tentative eyes but then nodded. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. I'll do it. You just… stay there and try and relax until we can get you all situated…"

Sam watched as Dean took the carpet cutter he kept on him and cut a big circle in the center of the room, tearing out the cheap carpet and letting the original boards become visible now. He then walked over to his bag and grabbed a piece of red chalk before he started to draw the pentagram and the symbols in each space. As he watched his brother do this, he knew what 'situated' meant. It meant Dean tying him to a chair in the center of the circle so he couldn't try and escape when they started the exorcism ritual with the holy water and the incantation. He looked back down at his bandaged hands and gently pressed down on one of them with his fingertips, inciting a sharp streak of pain that ran all through him. He didn't want to let himself be possessed before the ritual even started; he didn't want his brother to watch him kill himself again or hurt one of them.

Once Dean was done, he examined his handiwork and then walked over and grabbed a piece of paper from their father's logbook and looked at it with distaste. "I don't know how you can read this. Isn't it a dead language?"

Sam shrugged at the irony, figuring this wasn't the time to laugh. "Tell that to all the demons. It seems to work just fine on them."

"Yeah… right. So, you ready?"

Sam stood up and walked in the middle of the Devil's Trap and waited as Dean set a chair down in the middle of it before he went over to his bag again and grabbed the rope. Just as Sam had sat down in it, his heart sank when he heard a knock on their room door. He exchanged nervous looks with his brother but didn't move as Dean walked over to open it.

"About time… we didn't think you were ever going to get here," Dean complained as he shut the door after Bobby walked inside the room, a bag hanging over one shoulder.

Bobby raised his eyebrows at the scene before him and looked between the two men. "Well you two come prepared, don't you? Where's the holy water?"

Dean reached in his own bag and pulled out a black flask before waving it. "Right here."

Bobby looked at the flask a bit disapprovingly before he shook his head. "Of course it's in a flask. Well, I brought some extra just in case," he took his own out and then walked towards Sam. "How you doing, son?"

Sam gave him a dark smile. "Oh, besides having a Gaap demon inside of me? Great. Really fantastic, Bobby. Thanks for asking."

The older man rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry I even asked. You're just lucky I can read Latin, boy."

Dean smirked and patted Bobby's back as he shoved the incantation paper into his hand. "Nice seeing you too, Bobby. It's always a pleasure to see you."

Bobby Singer gave him a half smile. "You know the routine, boys. Sam, you're just going to sit there and look pretty while your brother splashes the holy water on you when the demon shows itself."

Dean smirked once again. "Ah, good times."

Their uncle shot them a stern look. "Will you shut the hell up so we can start this? I want to get this over with as much as you two do! Tie your brother up," Bobby barked at Dean.

He chuckled and then grabbed the rope before he started to tie Sam's arms and legs to the chair. "I knew you liked it this way," he jokingly winked at his brother before he was given a dark glare in return. His demeanor disappeared and was replaced with seriousness finally as he finished tying Sam's torso to the back of the chair. "There, you're all set, Sammy."

Bobby gripped the paper as Dean stepped outside the circle and looked at Sam. "I demand you show yourself, in the name of the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit…"

Sam sat in the chair, feeling somewhat awkward until he felt the familiar jolt of pain that meant the demon was near. He gripped the chair tightly with his burned hands which just caused him more pain that shot through him like hot knives.

Dean took a step forward out of reflex but Bobby put an arm out to stop him from getting too close. "Don't fight it, Sammy. We need it to appear."

Sam didn't try to fight against it this time. He felt the demon overpowering him easily and then closed his eyes. Dean watched the scene unfold and felt a chill when he saw those green eyes become replaced with solid black ones.

"You called?" Sam's voice rang out in the room, an edge of cockiness in it.

Dean started to spray Gaap-Sam with the holy water in short, small bursts as Bobby began to read from the paper.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica!"

Sam could feel the lining that help the Gaap to him slowly begin to pull apart but also felt the same excruciating pain the demon did as Dean spritzed them both with the holy water. He let out a loud cry of pain.

"That's not going to help you, Sam! I'm not that easy to get rid of… you're going to need to try a hell of a lot harder than that, grandpa!" the Gaap laughed right after Sam let out his cry.

Bobby looked at Dean and then back at Gaap-Sam, taking another step closer. "Ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare!"

At the last piece of Latin, Dean and Bobby both watched as Sam howled in pain again, fighting against the restraints that held him to the chair. Sam flinched against the holy water Dean continued to spray at him. They watched as what looked like smoke started to rise up from Sam's skin.

"Keep reading, Bobby. I think it's working," Dean spoke under his breath, never taking his eyes off his brother.

Bobby sucked in a breath before he continued to read from the paper. "Haec mando vobis ut solve innocentes nunc donec a semper. Ibi mandabo per te usque in sempiternum et adoleret ad inferos, non in hunc anima est! I cast you out, unclean spirit, along with every Satanic power of the enemy, every spectre from hell, and all your fell companions; in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Begone and stay far from this creature of God. For it is He who commands you, He who flung you headlong from the heights of heaven into the depths of Hell!"

Sam let out another howl of pain and gripped the chair arms so tightly, his bandages were unraveling and falling in the circle on the wooden floor. It physically pained Dean to watch the smoke rising off his young brother as he sat there screaming in pain, helpless. He then saw the Gaap force Sam's arm out of one of the restraints, breaking the rope, and then grabbed the wooden arm that had a nail sticking out of it. Dean knew what the Gaap was going to do to Sam before it even happened; Dean and Bobby both watched in horror as the demon forced Sam's hand to drag the nail that was sticking out of the arm of the chair down his face.

What he found to be even more terrifying was that Sam didn't even let out a scream of pain; his lips curved upwards in a dark, chilling smirk. Dean looked at Bobby for guidance and when he only received a look of panic and unsureness, he started spraying the holy water in longer spurts at the Gaap and recited the only part of the exorcism he knew by heart.

"Holy Lord, almighty Father, everlasting God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, let your mighty hand cast him out of your servant, Sam Winchester, so he may no longer hold captive this person whom it pleased you to make in your image, and to redeem through your Son; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever!" Dean shouted as loud as his throat would let him.

It was at this moment when he saw Sam's mouth open and the Gaap demon, as a black cloud of smoke, flew upwards towards the ceiling out of Sam before then descending beneath the floor and out of sight. Bobby wasted no time in untying the rest of Sam who was now slumped in the chair, unconscious but still breathing faintly.

They cleaned up; Dean threw the round cutout of the carpet back where he had cut it out, and the two of them erased any sign of an exorcism being performed in the room, besides the broken chair they couldn't fix. As Sam lay on the bed passed out, Dean carefully cleaned the long cut from the nail the best he could before he applied five butterfly bandages to stop the bleeding enough for it to clot. He placed an extra piece of gauze over his brother's battle wound just in case and then sighed once he was done.

"How's he doing?" a gruff voice asked from behind him.

"He'll live, like always," Dean replied tiredly as he covered Sam up with a blanket and stood up. He ran his hands through his hair and sat down on the edge of his own bed.

Bobby nodded silently before he looked at Dean. "Where'd you learn that part, in the exorcism? I get that you couldn't do the Latin parts but I didn't know you knew the regular parts too."

Dean met his uncle's deep-sunken eyes. "Just… just that part. I've been practicing, trying to memorize it so it's not all on Sam's shoulders. He's been through so much and I just… I wanted to lighten his load a bit."

Bobby's eyes looked a bit confused for several moments. "What do you mean, 'he's been through so much'? Are you talking the Lucifer thing?"

Dean swallowed hard and then glanced at Sam and looked back at Bobby with unsure eyes. There was so much and it was all heavy stuff to talk about. "I think… Sam should tell you in his own time, when he's ready."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Forget that, Dean. Why don't you just stop beating around the bush and tell me what he's been through exactly…?"

Dean sighed and instantly regretted bringing it up. He should've lied and said it was the Lucifer thing. He had been too mentally exhausted to think about anything else besides his brother. He pulled Bobby into the kitchen area, trying to get out of hearing range of Sam in case he was awake.

"Sam told me that our father's been abusing him since we were kids. I've seen the bruises, Bobby. They were really bad. On top of that, Dad hasn't even tried to deny doing it to me. It's like he's proud of it or something. He just tells me that Sam deserved it. I think that's one of the reasons why this Gaap latched onto him; he has a history of demons and he's still trying to deal with the depression Dad left with the beatings," Dean tried to get out before Bobby could interrupt.

When he was done, Bobby looked in absolute shock towards Sam and then looked back at Dean. "Christ… I can't believe it. I mean, I do believe you but… for God's sake, your father's my best friend. He always told me how much he loves you boys. That son-of-a-bitch…"

Dean felt relief at Bobby's own anger and frustration towards their father. "Yeah, those were my words exactly too when I found out. There's nothing we can do about it, though - "

"We can kill him!" Bobby cut across him, his voice full of rage.

Dean motioned for him to keep it down and pointed over to Sam. "Trust me, Bobby. I'd like to do nothing else but right now, we just need to take care of Sam. We'll deal with Dad when we cross that bridge. Don't do anything."

"He's the best damn hunter besides you two that I've ever seen… I suppose he's still useful to us. Do you really think I'm an idjit like you two? Of course I'm not going to go Rambo and take John Winchester out. That'd be suicide… anyway, I hate to break it to you but you two are going to be back on your own. I have to take a trip to Nebraska to take care of a werewolf problem."

Dean straightened up and his eyes widened slightly. "Do you need backup? As soon as Sam's awake, we can follow you there…?"

Bobby shook his head and placed his hands on Dean's shoulders firmly. "No, Dean. Sam's going to need a few days to rest up and heal. He's not going to be up for another case so soon. You need to stay here with him, watch him; make sure the Gaap is out of him for good. Don't push him too hard. You two don't have to stay here anymore but just don't follow me, you hear?"

Dean wanted to argue but he found himself nodding in understanding instead. He gave Bobby a hug and a friendly couple slaps on the back before he released him and watched his uncle grab the bag of supplies and leave the motel room, only leaving behind a faint scent of bourbon and sweat behind in his wake.

He walked back over to where Sam was and sat down on his own bed, watching his brother's chest to make sure he was still breathing. Dean leaned on his thighs and rubbed his eyes, wishing for so many things; he wanted Sam to heal faster, he wanted to go help Bobby with the werewolf case, he wanted the Gaap case to be over with, but most of all, he wanted to go back home and end Sam's suffering, once and for all. He wanted to be the one to put the bullet into their bastard father. He wanted Sam to feel relief for once in his cursed life. He wanted to watch over and protect his brother from the man who had somehow been a monster in disguise all along.


	10. He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

**Thanks for the reviews! You really have no idea how much they mean to me. I'm sorry it took me so long to put up this chapter. I've been insanely busy. **

**Hope you like!**

* * *

Dean stared down at Sam as he groaned in his sleep. He rested his chin on his hands before he rubbed his eyes, having watched him all night to make sure the Gaap was truly out of him. He felt exhausted but he knew it was worth it, and grateful that Bobby had made the trip to help him when their father wouldn't. He was in his debt, and he knew it.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and felt a surge of energy and confidence when his brother finally opened his emerald colored eyes and turned to look at him.

"Hey, sleeping beauty… how you feeling?"

Sam looked around at his surroundings, having forgotten where they were. "Better. How long have I been out?"

Dean shrugged and looked at his brother with worried eyes. "A few days. Can I get you anything, man?" Before Sam could answer, he was already up on his feet and in the kitchen but glanced back at him.

Sam swallowed hard and rubbed his parched, sore throat. "Water would be great. Did it work?"

Dean filled a glass of water and came back with it. He held it out to him. "Demon free water. I've been watching you and the Gaap never took you over again so I think the Gaap is gone. Our case here is finally done."

Sam usually liked hearing those words after a case was solved but it also meant that they would have to go back home to stock back up on their supplies and talking to John seemed inevitable. He chugged the water down, relaxing once he had drank all of it and handed it back to Dean who set it on the bedside table.

"Yeah, I guess it is… oh Jesus… d-did I hurt you or Bobby?" Sam asked in a panicked tone, sitting up quickly.

Dean placed his hands on Sam's shoulders to get him to calm down. "Hey, relax, man… you didn't hurt us. You're in worse shape…" he touched his own face with a finger to show Sam where the Gaap had made him hurt himself.

Sam placed his hand on his cheek and stiffened when he felt the bandage. He looked at his brother questioningly. "Dean, what'd I do…?"

Dean's insides twisted uncomfortably at the pain in his little brother's voice and chewed on his lower lip before he sighed. "Right before he left you, there was a rogue nail sticking out of the chair and he broke off the arm of it before scraping it down your face. It was deep, but it wasn't anything we couldn't sew back up. You'll probably be sore for a while though, until it heals."

Sam appeared a bit disturbed at this news but nodded in understanding. It wasn't the first injury he had sustained in a hunting case and he knew it wouldn't be the last; it disturbed and terrified him that the injury had been done by his own hand and he hadn't even been conscious for it. All he had was Dean's words to go by. Sam swallowed hard and then suddenly hit the bedside table with his fist, causing Dean to jump in surprise.

"Damn it! I can't believe I let it get into me in the first place! I'm such an idiot…"

Dean sighed and shook his head. "Sam, the Gaap possessed a lot of people. It just happened to possess you too. It doesn't prove anything."

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "No, Dean! It proves a lot! It proves how weak I am, and how weak I'll always be! It didn't possess you, and oh gee, Dean… I wonder why. It couldn't be because you're so much stronger than me, or the fact that you don't have any mental illnesses or get nightmares constantly!"

Dean felt his impatience with his brother rise up inside of him but he did his best to hold it back. He knew Sam's anger and frustration was justifiable and it hurt to see him hurt like this. He leaned forward and looked at his brother.

"You know that I haven't always been this strong, Sam. God knows I'm only human but I also haven't had the bad experiences you've had, with Lucifer, and Dad… if Dad hadn't beat you every chance he got, you might've turned out as strong as me mentally. That isn't your fault though, Sammy. It's not… it's just that…" Dean licked his lips in thought, struggling to put his thought into words. "We're dealt the hand we're dealt and you just happened to get a shitty hand. I don't think of you as weak, though. I never have, and I don't think I ever will. You're my brother and no mental illness is going to change the courage you have inside of you."

Sam hadn't expected Dean to say what he did even though he'd heard his brother speak similar words before but this time it felt different somehow. He searched his brother's face and then bit his lip. "Thanks, Dean… really. I guess I'm just not feeling the courage right now."

"Oh! That reminds me," Dean stood up and walked over to the table by the door, grabbed a bottle and then walked back over to Sam before he tossed it to Sam, who caught it. "Got these for you while you were sleeping."

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked at the label on the bottle. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Dean to get him medication when he needed it and it was for depression but it was the name on the label that made Sam chuckle. "Robert Townshend… awesome, Dean."

His brother smirked and half shrugged. "Well I figured it'd be too obvious if I used Pete Townshend but I also wanted to use Robert Plant's name in there so… you're Robert Townshend for your prescriptions."

Sam laughed and shook his head before he opened the bottle and spilled two of the blue colored pills into his hands before he took them with water. He cringed when he swallowed the water, feeling the pain in his cheek where Dean had done the pseudo stitching. He was quiet for a while before he looked at Dean who had grabbed a beer from the fridge.

"So where do we go from here?"

Dean thought about what Bobby had said to him before he left. Sam wasn't really in any condition yet to do another hunt and he wanted to give his head some time to rest and time for the meds to kick in. That could take a few weeks though, at the least. He looked at Sam unsurely for a bit before replying. "I… figured we could stop back home to reload and wash our clothes first before we head out again. What do you think?"

Sam flinched slightly at the word 'home' because home meant Dad. He looked down at his hands and sighed heavily, his chest tight and his back feeling heavy. He nodded, aware of the possibility that his brother missed their father, regardless of the pain he caused their family. Even if he didn't mention their father, it was only for Sam's benefit. He looked back at his brother and nodded again.

"Yeah, sure. That's probably a good idea…"

"Look, Sam… you don't have to come inside if you don't want to. You don't even have to come with me back home. We can meet up somewhere if you're uncomfortable with being around Dad. I won't hold it against you or anything," Dean offered, running a hand through his hair as he saw the anxiety grow in Sam's eyes.

"No, it's… it's fine. I'll come with you. I can't ignore him forever; he'd make sure of it. Can we just… get what we need, do what we need to do, and then get out? I can't be around Dad for a long time or anything."

Dean nodded. "Of course, Sam. I didn't have any plans to stick around there long. We'll wash our clothes, grab some more ammo, and then get the hell out of Dodge. Bobby's working a case in Nebraska so I figured we could meet up with him there to help once you're… all set."

"Did Bobby say he needed our help? He's usually pretty good about doing hunts alone…"

Dean glowered down at his brother. "He didn't say he needed our help but trust me, he needs our help. Whether he wants to admit it or not, so the sooner we get back home and get ready, the sooner we can meet up with him."

Sam looked skeptically at Dean now and grimaced in pain as he stood up. "Dean, why are you so eager to get back on the road and onto another case? I get the whole adrenaline thing for you but I'm just getting over this case. Why don't you give me a break from hunting until I can get myself better?"

Dean sighed and stood up before he walked over to him. "I told you that you can stay behind on this Nebraska case! I gave you that option… did the Gaap erase your short term memory on the way out?"

"Dean, I want to come with, I just thought it'd be cool if you gave me some time to rest up… or at least give my meds a chance to kick in first before we go on a suicide mission! I'm trying to do my best to not act like a complete psycho and you're already gearing up for the next hunt! You're turning into Dad!"

Dean suddenly pushed his brother up against the wall and pinned Sam there with his arm before he leaned in, glaring at him with dark eyes. "Listen to me, little brother… I'm really sorry that you're not all there mentally but I don't need your help with every single hunt. Also, I get that you're hearing voices and looking to go all Hemingway shotgun on yourself but don't you dare accuse me of being like Dad! If I was Dad, I'd do a hell of a lot more than pin you up against some wall and give you a stern talking to!" Dean growled before he took his arm off of Sam.

His brother looked more annoyed and angry than afraid or taken aback by Dean's actions. He grabbed his heavy jacket and carefully put it on before he grabbed his phone. Dean turned around and looked at him with surprised eyes. "Where are you going? We just exorcised a demon out of you…"

Sam glanced back at him. "I'm going for a walk." He pocketed his wallet before he headed out the motel room door and stuffed his hands in his pockets, starting to walk down the road towards the diner. He was hesitant about taking his brother's car in case something came up and Dean actually needed to drive somewhere.

He let the cold, brisk air hit his face as he walked into the wind down the road, stuffing his hands into his pockets. As he walked down the road, he heard the familiar roar of the Chevy Impala coming up from behind him and then heard the engine slow down.

"Come on, Sammy… don't do this right now. Get in the car," Dean's voice trailed over Led Zeppelin and his engine as he slowly coasted alongside his brother.

Sam walked on, choosing to ignore him as his frustration boiled under his skin. He was forced to stop when Dean turned the car to the side and cut him off before he leaned over and opened the passenger side door for him.

"Stop being a bitch. Get in the car, Sam. We're going to the same place. Let's just talk, okay?"

Sam debated walking back to the motel room. It wouldn't do any good though because Dean would just follow him back there too. He forced himself into the car and then slammed the door of the car. As his brother drove on towards the diner, the two of them sat in a cold silence and neither of them said a word until they were seated in a booth inside the diner.

"What do you want, Sam? Coffee, pie? Whatever you want, it's on me," Dean offered, hailing over a waitress.

"I'll just have coffee, I guess," he replied as coolly as he could to the waitress without coming off as rude. After the waitress took Dean's order of a slice of cherry pie and walked away, Sam glanced out the window. "So, this is your plan, to buy my loyalty and love? Maybe you're more like Dad than either of us thought."

Sam instantly regretted those words. He hadn't truly meant to let those acid words roll off his tongue but it was too late to take it back down. Dean leaned back in his seat and shook his head before he waved his hand.

"Please, Sam. Tell me how you're really feeling; don't hold anything back," Dean replied icily. "I can't buy your love with coffee, and I'm not trying to. I know you; you'd love me still even if I was the one holding the gun that shot you, and you'd apologize for bleeding all over me. I just want you to know that I'm not the bad guy here. You're just making me the bad guy because Dad's not here and there's no one else to blame, and I'm the closest thing to Dad. You're… projecting."

Sam seemed impressed at his brother's analysis of him but said nothing until both their orders were set in front of them. He smiled politely at the waitress and waited until she was gone. "Maybe you're partially right… you are the closest thing I have to Dad but I'm just frustrated as hell at you because we both barely got through this case with the Gaap and now you're eager to go tromping off to Nebraska to help Bobby. I know that I was the one who held the gun to my own head the other day but I think you're the one with a death wish."

Dean gave his brother an exasperated look before he delved into his pie. He swallowed his bite and then looked back at Sam. "Sam, in case you're forgetting, this is what we do. This is what we were raised to do. Don't you like saving people? I mean, you can't tell me that you never get an ego boost after saving innocent people from the monsters."

Sam took a long sip of coffee. "How can I forget that we hunt for a living? There's literally no way I possibly could, even if I wanted to. You and Dad keep reminding me every other minute of every day. I'm not saying that I don't like saving innocents, Dean. I'm saying that we're not the only hunters out there. Bobby's more than willing to save them. You don't have to feel obligated to with every single case."

Dean rolled his eyes and took another bite of his pie. "Sammy… you don't have to come with me. I've told you this several times. I always give you an out unless I need you for your talents. This is what we have to do. We can't always rely on other hunters to hunt the ghosties."

Sam clenched his jaw and suddenly hit the table, feeling so angry again. A part of him wondered if it was the meds making him feel this way but that wasn't possible; antidepressants took a while to kick in. He tongued his cheek and then leaned in towards his brother.

"Damn it, Dean! Maybe I don't want you to go on every single hunting trip because you're the only brother and normal family member I have and I don't want to fucking lose you!" he yelled in a hushed whisper, trying not to cause a scene.

Dean stopped eating his pie, seeing the fresh tears that were starting to form in Sam's eyes. He suddenly lost his appetite and he leaned back in the booth before he looked around and then back at his brother. "Sam, you're not going to lose me. I told you; it's going to take a lot more than the monsters to get rid of me."

"Y-You don't know that," Sam's voice cracked. He attempted to hide it by taking another sip of his coffee and swallowing the hot liquid, letting it burn his throat. "There's been so many times when I almost did lose you, and you have no idea how terrifying it was for me..."

Dean leaned in now. "Do you think I threw a party during your year in Hell? Do you really think that I never cried myself to sleep at night, blaming myself for you being there, being Lucifer's bitch? I can't tell you how many times I thought about taking one of Dad's guns and just ending it all right then and there! But I didn't because I _had_ to believe you'd be back again, even if I had no idea. I just _had_ to hold onto that hope because that was all I had. I have an idea how terrifying it was for you those times when I almost died, so don't tell me otherwise, Sammy,"

This seemed to shut him up now. Sam swallowed hard and took a shaky breath before he watched the snow falling in soft tufts outside just to keep his eyes from looking at his brother's. They were both quiet for a long time until Dean had finished his pie.

"I get how you're feeling. I understand that you're afraid of losing me and you're more than welcome to come with and back me up but I'm just trying to look out for your best interest, Sam."

Sam forced himself to look at Dean again. "You think my best interest is back home with Dad?"

"No, I didn't say that, Sam. You don't have to stay with Dad. You can take a car and meet me somewhere after the case is done, if you don't want to come with me. I'm going either way, with or without you, and that's just something you're going to need to deal with, but you can stay at a motel up the road from me if you want, okay? That way, if I need backup, I can just call you. How does that sound? That way, you're not stuck with Dad and then both of us can feel better about the other…"

Sam relaxed now and nodded, running his hands through his hair in relief. He liked this plan and felt grateful Dean had given him options. His mind was so mentally drained from the Gaap using him that he didn't know he could've come up with that option. "Okay, yeah… that sounds good."

"Good… then it's settled. Come on, drink up or die. We need to head back home to load back up."

Sam knocked back the rest of his coffee and then nodded to Dean before he took out the money to pay their bill, plus a generous tip before the two of them got into the Impala and started to drive back towards the hotel.

They packed up their belongings; Sam's medications, the weapons, their dirty clothes, any evidence of an exorcism being done in the motel, bloody towels. Dean didn't waste any time in stealing what was leftover of the motel soap and shampoo. Once they changed Sam's bandages, they threw their bags into the backseat of the Impala and then pulled out of the motel parking lot.

It felt good to be back on the road, even if they were going back to a place that Sam could only describe being worse than actual Hell. They wouldn't be there long so they wouldn't have to deal with their father for very long, and then they'd be going to Nebraska, and they wouldn't be alone. Sam preferred to stay at a motel near Dean than let him go to the case alone, besides Bobby. As they passed the sign that told them they were leaving Topeka, Sam rested his head against the window and soon fell asleep.

* * *

"Sam! Sammy, wake up!"

Sam slowly opened his eyes and looked around at his surroundings, noticing the car wasn't moving anymore. He rubbed them tiredly and let out an involuntary yawn. "Hmm?"

"We're here. We're h-home…"

Sam didn't miss how his brother stammered on the word 'home.' It had become one of those words that the brothers used for lack of a better word. Home was where your parents loved you and protected you. Home wasn't here. Their father didn't love Sam and only thought of Dean as one of his soldiers. He took a deep breath and then helped Dean get their stuff into the house. Sam quietly crept inside the house after his brother who had started towards the laundry room area where their mother had always cleaned their clothes. He felt panic in his chest but tried not to let it get the best of him.

"It's alright, Sam… just stay by my side. I won't let him hurt you," Dean promised him in a whisper, as if he could sense his younger brother's fear.

Sam leaned against the wall and watched as Dean piled their dirty, bloody clothes into the washer and dumped two full capfuls of laundry soap on top of them. He anxiously tore the skin around his cuticles, occasionally hearing noises coming from their Dad's "office." He wondered how long it'd take for John to find out they were there. For a few fleeting moments, Sam thought maybe they could somehow do everything they needed to do and then get out without encountering their father.

"While our clothes are washing, let's go reload…" Dean motioned for Sam to follow him towards the garage where they kept all their hunting supplies.

Sam stayed at his brother's heels like a loyal dog but felt like a scared dog that had been kicked by its owner one too many times and now instinctively flinched. He grabbed the bag that held their weapons and then walked with Dean to the garage. He took out the Colt and grabbed more bullets to put into the chamber.

"Make sure you grab a couple extra boxes of bullets and shells for the other guns, Sam," Dean reminded him not unkindly.

Sam nodded firmly in acknowledgement and started loading up the boxes of ammo into their bag before he grabbed some of the red shells of rock salt and loaded them into both shotguns. "Do you think Dad will be happy to see us?"

Dean shrugged as he refilled his flask of holy water. "I don't know, probably not. Do you really care if he is? After how we left last time, I'll be surprised if he doesn't try to shoot both of us with rock salt."

Sam was quiet but he nodded and then another question popped into his head. "What if he doesn't let us leave this time?"

Dean glanced up from his task before he shook his head. "He doesn't have a say in this. We're both legally adults and we can do whatever the hell we want, with or without his permission. I'm not leaving here without you. You're not going to be his punching bag anymore."

He seemed so sure about his plan that Sam sincerely felt safe with him. He really felt like everything was going to go as planned for once. There was something about Dean's confidence that gave him hope.

"Good to see you again, boys…"

Their father's cold voice sent a chill down Sam's back, making the panic and fear come back again. All of the hope that Sam had gained from Dean had disappeared as quickly as it had come.


	11. Ramble On

**Sorry for the long break in between chapters. I'm also working on a Sherlock fanfic (so check out that one if you enjoy that show too!). I'll be starting classes again tomorrow but I'll try my best to keep my stories updated.**

**As always, reviews are much appreciated. If you have difficulty wondering what your review means to me, think about Dean and pie. Yes, pie and reviews are both wonderful things.**

* * *

Sam felt his hands shaking as he heard his father's footsteps walk closer towards them. He clenched his jaw and looked down, trying to look like he was helping Dean who hadn't stopped reloading their guns. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs as their father watched them, expecting a response from his sons.

"Hey…"

Sam heard his brother's voice and knew he should respond too. "Hi, Dad." He steadied his voice so it didn't shake but he doubted he could do it a second time.

John Winchester took another few steps closer towards them and cocked his head slightly in what Dean could only assume was a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "No, 'sir?' Now, I know I brought you both up better than that."

Dean shoved in the magazine into his gun harder than he had to and then stood up, straightening his shoulders so he was almost eye level with their father. "You've lost that right for us to call you 'sir' anymore! It's difficult for us to even call you 'Dad.' After what you did to Sam, you're lucky I don't put one into you right now!"

Sam wet his lips and looked up at both of the men, fearing that Dean had crossed a line. He wasn't going to deny that it felt satisfying in a way to hear his older brother stand up for him but he feared more for his life right now than their father's. He knew what John was capable of; he'd seen it first hand, where as Dean had not.

"Dean..." Sam spoke in a low voice, his tone laced with warning.

Dean glanced over at his brother and placed his hand out. "No, Sam. I'm sorry but he's gotta hear this."

John shot a cold, icy glare over at Sam before he smirked sickly at Dean. "Yeah, Sam… I think it's best if you stay out of this. Go ahead, Dean. Let me know how horrible of a father I've been to you. I've only raised you the best I could."

Dean raised his eyebrows in a look of surprise and anger. "Oh really? That had to involve ditching us when you were faced with responsibility and telling us to go fight the monsters in the dark, knowing full well we might've not made it back?"

His father took another step towards Dean. "I raised you the best I could, Dean, both of you. You two know better than anyone I wasn't in line for any 'father-of-the-year' awards or anything but I trained you to fight those sons-of-bitches and I raised you to respect your elders and protect the innocent. You two are still alive because of me!"

Sam knew what his father was doing. This was a familiar trick of his; John was laying the guilt trip on them, taking the heat off of himself and giving himself undeserved credit. He felt his stomach twists like hot knives and then heard Dean chuckle without humor.

"That's a good one, but… you're wrong. Sam and I are alive because of each other. We've had each other's backs from day one. All those times when you left without hardly a 'goodbye, see you soon'! Where the hell did you go? You just ran off when things got too tough!"

"That's a lie, son. You know damn well where I left to. Those monsters out there, those demons and black dogs in the dark? They don't kill themselves, Dean. That's our job to do; we're the ones that have to go after them and I did that! I killed them to protect everyone! I didn't just… 'run off.' I went out and did my job! I did what I had to, so don't you dare tell me or anyone else for that matter that I just up and left my family!" John barked in Dean's face.

Sam thought about getting up to protect Dean but he knew that this was a discussion between him and their father. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard, watching them both fearfully. They were in a garage full of weapons and they were three experienced hunters. It was a bad combination and a recipe for disaster.

Dean shoved their father, who only stumbled back a few inches. "You can make up any make believe story you want but the fact of the matter is that you felt guilty for all those things you did to Sam! You couldn't stand to look him in the eye afterwards or even look our mother in the eye, could you?! You sent me on hunting trips alone just so I wouldn't walk in on you beating him to a goddamn pulp! Those times you were at the hospital with him…" Dean's eyes glossed over with sudden realization and he sucked in a breath before he turned around and put his hands to his mouth. "I-It was you! You were the reason why he was in there…oh my god!"

John's face turned from angry to scared. Sam held his breath, watching his father's expression once Dean had put the broken pieces of the puzzle together. "Now, Dean… wait a minute. That's not true. I took Sammy to the hospital because he broke his arm climbing up a tree, you know how he used to love to climb… He broke his wrist while riding his bike… that wasn't me…"

Sam's body went cold and numb. No, that wasn't right… his eyes grew filled with panic and he could feel his father's hard eyes on him. He could feel everything fading away, into the background.

Dean's angry eyes instantly grew soft when he put his hands behind his head in what could only be described in distress and confusion and looked at his brother. "Sammy… tell me the truth. Is that what happened? All those times he took you to the hospital. Was it because you were just clumsy and fell out of trees and off your bike?"

Sam refocused his eyes on Dean when he asked him the questions. He wasn't upset at Dean. He knew his brother just wanted to believe the lies instead of the truth. The lies were always easier to swallow, as lies so often were. He glanced over at their father who gave him a cold, dark look behind Dean's back.

"Sam! Look at me, man… don't look at him, okay? Just answer me, yes or no? What Dad said… did those things happen?"

Searching his older brother's eyes, he knew that their father was lying through his teeth. He just wanted reassurance. He wanted to believe their father didn't beat his younger children when he was drunk or impatient with them. Dean wanted to believe they had the storybook father who loved and cared for his children, actually protected them from the monsters instead of being a monster himself. Looking into Dean's deep green eyes, he couldn't lie to him.

Sam shook his head and bit his lip so hard, he could taste the metallic in his mouth. "No, Dean. H-He's lying… I was in the hospital those times because he hurt me really bad, and he was trying to cover his tracks."

He didn't know where the courage to say that had come from, but once the words flew out of his mouth, he felt lighter. He looked over at their father who was shaking his head in disappointment.

Dean gently patted Sam on his shoulder before rubbing it sympathetically. He then let go of it and turned around to face John. "You goddamn son of a bitch…"

"Dean! Dean, take a deep breath and just listen – "

Sam could see his brother's hands trembling in rage and knew what was coming before it even happened. His brother gave John a right hook to his jaw hard, and then gave one more to his cheek, cutting it right under his eye.

"No! It's time you listen to _us_ for once in your life you bastard! We don't want anything to do with you anymore! I want you to take your whiskey and bourbon and drown yourself in it! You're not our father! Bobby is more of a father to us than you'll ever be! The next time either of us call you 'sir' is going to be a cold goddamn day in Hell! Don't call Sam ever again or try to see us because I swear to God, if I see you again, I'm going to kill you," Dean roared at him.

Sam found the bravery to stand up now and walked over to where Dean stood, fuming. He was still wary of their father but somehow, his brother's warning gave him the courage he had so badly needed. John turned to spit out blood before he looked at Sam, breathing heavily.

"Anything you want to add, Sammy?"

Sam thought for a while before he shook his head, ironically not being able to find a word to say to him now that he actually had the ability to stand up to his father. "No, I think Dean said it all."

Suddenly, Sam let his own fist fly at John, hitting his lip and breaking it on impact. He shook out his hand, feeling a pain of his own shooting through his hand like lightning. He wanted to groan at the pain but instead, he found himself smiling as he looked at John who stood there dumbfounded at Sam's attack on him.

Dean slapped Sam on the back before he turned back to John. "Get away from us so we can finish collecting our supplies. Once we're done here, we won't have to come back. You'll never see us again."

John spit out more blood, this time near Sam's feet. "You're just living in a land of pipe dreams, aren't you, boys? If I want to find you, I'll find you. There's no stopping that…" He wiped his face on his sleeve and then left the garage, walking back towards the house.

Sam let out a breath he had been holding and then looked at Dean. "Thank you, for saying what you did to him. You stood up for me, even after he tried to get you to believe his lies."

Dean gave him a small smirk and a knowing look. "I'm your brother, Sam. That's what brothers do, and you should know that I'll always believe you above everyone else, even our own father. After what you told me before at the motel about what he did to you, I think that was the moment I decided I wasn't going to believe anything that came out of his mouth."

Sam nodded thankfully and sighed to himself. "Where are we going to go, Dean?"

"To Nebraska, to help Bobby. We talked about this, remember?"

Sam glanced away and then looked down at his hands before he forced himself to look his brother in the eyes again, his own eyes flecked with worry. "I mean after. After the job in Nebraska's done, where are we going to go? We always came back home after the cases, and now? Where are we going to go?"

Dean licked his lips and he shrugged. "I don't want you to worry about that, all right? I'm sure Bobby will let us stay with him, and you know damn well he won't let Dad anywhere near us. It's going to be okay, Sam. I promise."

"Things are never going to be okay," Sam said before he could stop himself. He hadn't meant to speak the words aloud and regretted it as soon as the brothers let the words hang in the air like a fog.

Dean put both his hands on either side of Sam's shoulders and held onto them firmly, leaning in. "They will be. They have to be, Sammy. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but… eventually things will settle down and no matter what, the two of us will still be brothers at the end of the day, right?"

Sam nodded now, being brothers the only constant in their rocky and mostly unstable lives. "Yeah, of course."

Dean nodded too in reassurance and then did his usual stint of breaking the moment when things became too awkward for him to take. "So did we only come back home for weapons and a wash or was there anything else you wanted to get?"

Sam didn't know how he had to forgotten the whole reasoning for coming back home. True, it had been Dean's plan in the first place, but his brother knew that he had secretly wanted to come back home for something else as well. He wiped the perspiration and dirt from his face onto his sleep and then made a grab for their bag of freshly replaced and loaded weapons.

Dean grabbed the bag first and motioned for him to go. "I've got this, man. You go and get what you need to get. I'm right behind you. I need a shower anyway."

Sam made no arguments as he started back towards the house and didn't waste any time making a beeline towards their old room. He lingered as he watched Dean set the bag on his bed and then go into the bathroom, lazily only closing the door three-quarters of the way before he got undressed and turned the shower on.

He knelt down beside his bed and waited for Dean's familiar Eye of The Tiger duet from the shower. Once he heard the opening lines, Sam reached in under his bed and brought a shoebox out. He took the top off and felt relief wash over him when he saw that the contents inside the box were still there. He had half expected John to have burned it or taken it for himself. He took out an older picture of the four of them together, John's arm around Mary's shoulders in the back as a young Dean and Sam stood in front, their arms both on the other's shoulders' as well. He shoved the photo into the deep inside pocket of his heavy jacket before delving back into the shoebox.

"It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight! Risin' up to the challenge of our rivals…."

Sam smirked happily at his brother's off-key singing and then reached into the box and dug around before he pulled out the necklace Dean had given him what felt like so long ago. His heart had been shattered when he had seen him throw it away but he was compelled to dig it out of the trash and keep it. It was much more than an amulet to Sam; it symbolized that Dean was his sole protector and essentially his surrogate father. He had always been much more of a father to him than John had been. That was a relationship with his brother that he treasured more than anything. He put it around his neck and then hid it under his shirt, feeling almost hesitant for Dean to see it again.

He looked at the rest of the contents of the shoebox, mostly pictures of their father and then grabbed one that only had their mother in it, without John. She looked much younger, and probably was, but it was one of the only pictures Sam had of her besides the group photo with all of them. He wanted to remember her as this woman; not the woman that was on his ceiling, being burned to death. He pocketed that photo as well before he shut the box and shoved it back under his bed and stood up just in time for Dean to walk into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Sam didn't know why but his first instinct was to look guilty. He stood frozen in place until he heard Dean give him an odd look and chuckled.

"Why are you acting like I just walked in on you rubbing one out?"

Sam shook his head and waved it off. "I'm not, Dean… I'm going to go shower," he decided, desperate for a shower too.

He grabbed his spare clothes that were still in the drawer and headed into the bathroom. He washed the dirt and scum off his skin and out of his hair, letting his skin burn under the hot water. Sam took a deep breath, feeling good about all the things he and Dean had said to their father, but also feeling like there was going to be a major shit storm on the way towards them. He had a sinking feeling that this wouldn't be the last time they saw John.

Sam washed himself up and then shut off the water before he towel dried himself and got changed into clean boxers and a pair of jeans. He wiped the fogged up mirror off with his towel and stared at his reflection, half expecting to see his eyes change to the familiar demon black color. When they didn't, he grabbed a handful of shaving cream from the can and applied it to his face, avoiding his sideburns.

After he applied the shaving cream evenly and started to carefully shave, his mind began to trail elsewhere. What if there was a hunting trip that required John's help? What if they couldn't do the job with three people? They couldn't very well go crawling back to their father for help after their confrontation earlier. John Winchester was stubborn enough that he would just let his whole family die at the hands of a demon than go help them. As his thoughts wandered away from what he was supposed to be doing at the moment, the sound of his brother ripped him quickly out of his head.

"SAM! Sammy!"

Sam looked from his reflection to Dean who looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, pointing to his face. He looked down at the sink and saw a trail of blood running towards the middle of the drain. Sam looked up at his reflection and saw that he had nicked himself more than once, one of the nicks appeared more of a cut.

"Damn it…" He took the towel and pressed it to his face, holding it firmly in place to help the blood on the deeper nick clot.

"Are you all right, man? Where did you go? I've been calling your name forever…"

Sam looked at the cut and then ripped off a few pieces of toilet paper before he stuck them to the other nicks that were merely surface cuts. "Sorry, Dean. I've just… got a lot on my mind."

Dean leaned against the door frame, still looking at his brother with worry in his eyes. "Well, unload it on me. You shouldn't have to carry all of it around. Is… the Gaape back? If it is, you need to tell me, man. I won't be upset or anything, I promise. We can beat it though. You don't need to deal with it alone."

Sam shook his head. "No, no. It's not the Gaape. It's…" He sighed resignedly. "It's Dad, Dean. What the hell are we going to do if we can't banish a demon with three people? What if, for some reason, we need a fourth person?"

Dean scratched his chin in thought. "Honestly, I'm not sure yet, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I'm sure we can ask Ellen or Jo or something. It won't be the end all be all. Don't worry about it. It won't come down to asking Dad to help us."

That's what Sam needed to hear. He felt so pathetic; he really was attached to his brother in a way that could be seen as unhealthy. He relied on his brother for so much: protection, comfort, consolation… just thinking about his childish reliance on Dean was enough for the depression spiders to start weaving their way in his head again. He cursed himself silently now; he couldn't remember the last time he had taken his antidepressants.

"Okay, alright," Sam acknowledged aloud, more to himself than to Dean. "Are we ready to leave?"

"Uhh, sure. As soon as you put a shirt on we can go, Marlboro Man."

"Oh, right." Sam grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it on over his head after rinsing off the shaving cream that was left on his face. He looked back at his reflection but then tore his eyes away from it, afraid of what might come from it.

Dean eyed his brother worriedly but didn't say anything as he grabbed the weapon bag and walked out of the room, heading back towards their car. Sam silently followed after he grabbed his jacket again and put it back on. The two brothers got into the car and Dean backed out. Neither of them said anything until they were back on the road.

"How long do you think it'll be until we're there?" Sam asked softly.

Dean turned on the radio and relaxed slightly as Bad Company started playing. "Shouldn't be too long. Probably about three, three-and-a-half hours or so. Take a nap or something, man. I'll wake you up when we get there."

Sam nodded as he rubbed the tops and palms of his head, his bones starting to ache. He cursed himself again for not taking his antidepressants. He had the time to take them, but maybe he was still ashamed of having to take them in the first place. He felt like a lesser person for taking them, weak. He decided to take them the next time they had a pit stop. Dean would have to get gas eventually on the way. He rested his head against the cool window and sighed tiredly but couldn't bring himself to close his eyes just yet.

Dean rubbed his head and looked worriedly at his brother. "You okay, Sammy?" When he saw his brother nod out of the corner of his eyes, he shook his head in disbelief. "You didn't take your pills today, did you?"

Sam didn't miss how Dean had formed this question. It seemed more of a statement than anything. "No, Dean," he replied, slight irritation in his voice. "But I'll take them the next gas station we stop at."

"Damn right you are," he agreed. "Sammy…"

"Please stop calling me that, Dean," Sam interrupted.

Dean ignored his request and continued. "I didn't fake my name for you not to take those pills. I'm not one to actually believe that certain things can help you with mental illnesses but… they have certain chemicals in the pills, right? It makes sense that they would help you, but you need to take them in order for them to work."

Sam lifted his head up off the window and looked at Dean. "I know! I know what I'm supposed to do. I know I need to take them…"

"So why didn't you then?"

"Why do you even care? It's _my_ depression, it's _my_ problem, Dean!" Sam argued.

Dean shook his head again but kept his eyes on the road. "Damn it, Sam! It's not just your problem, it's both of our problems! It might be your depression but it affects us both, whether you like it or not! If you're thoughts are trailing off to offing yourself during a hunt, you're a hell of a lot more likely to throw yourself into it in hopes of dying! That's my business, Sam! That's why I care so much! We're not going on these hunts for you to be on a suicide mission!"

Sam swallowed hard, rubbing his hand even harder. He was quiet for a while, unsure how he felt about Dean somehow being able to read the thoughts in his head. "We throw ourselves into danger every time we do these cases, Dean. I'm glad you care about me, really, I am. I just… what do you want me to do when I start feeling depressed during a case? I can't just…opt out and stay in the car or whatever."

Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel and then reached over with his free hand and turned the radio off before he glanced over at Sam. "I don't know what we should do, Sam. I know that we need to have each other's' backs in these hunts but I don't want you to die by your own hand if you're gonna die, man. I want you to go down fighting…" Dean tried to say how he felt but Sam could tell he was having difficulty.

Sam didn't say anything for a long time. He felt anxious even talking about his hypothetical suicide. This could've just been Dean being paranoid after he put the gun to his head back in Topeka. He couldn't blame him for being paranoid thought; in fact, in a twisted way, he felt loved. To have someone worry about was love. He didn't want to promise Dean that something like that wouldn't ever happen again, but it hurt Sam more for Dean to talk about it.

"I'll try and be better about taking the antidepressants. I won't give up. Hell, I can't just give up and leave you here alone…"

Dean exhaled, clenching and unclenching the steering wheel in nervousness. "You almost did back in Topeka, Sam… I watched you with the gun and… if I hadn't been able to talk you down from it…" he trailed off, not daring to speak the rest of his sentence aloud, as if he speaking the words would make them come true.

"I know, Dean. I know… but you were able to talk me out of it, and the least I can do now is keep hunting with you and help save innocent people. The least I can do is continue living and taking the pills. You're right, Dean, the antidepressants will help me." Sam assured him.

He wasn't even sure if what he said was true but he was sick of worrying Dean. The Gaape had been able to cause enough damage to the two of them for Dean to be paranoid and constantly worried his brother couldn't fight any more against the own demons in his head. It had made Sam feel utterly defeated, severely depressed, and feel weak in his brother's eyes. He didn't want to say it aloud but Sam felt maybe his brother would be better off without him. He was just dead weight compared to Dean. His brother was so much stronger mentally; he'd be able to help Bobby alone.

"I don't know what the hell I'd do without you, Sammy," Dean just about whispered, looking over at him. "If you disappeared…" Dean stopped himself and suddenly cleared his throat, a sure sign to Sam that Dean was already getting choked up thinking about the idea of Sam no longer being alive.

He was becoming convinced that his brother could read his mind but the better part of him knew it was impossible. Sam took a deep breath and looked at his brother before he gently rubbed his shoulder for a brief few moments.

"Dean, I'm not going anywhere. I'll go down fighting. I'll take the pills and be a good little soldier for you and we're both going to be okay," Sam spoke, his voice strong and determined.

Dean nodded but was still looking anxious. "Don't mention the words 'good little soldier,' Sam. Okay? That was… Dad who wanted us to be that. We're not anyone's soldiers. We're brothers, come Hell or high water. What we do, we do for each other, for Bobby, and for the innocents. No one else… not for Dad."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Not for Dad," he repeated in a whisper.

He leaned back against the window and somehow felt tired enough to close his eyes. He heard Dean click the radio back on and Sam let Dust In The Wind lull him to sleep.


	12. Riders On The Storm

**You'll see where we go, BruisedBloodyBroken! No hints! Hmm… guess you'll just have to keep reading and reviewing.**

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Sam opened his eyes and then cringed when he felt an uncomfortable pain in his neck from how he had been resting his head against the window. He looked around and felt his heart sink when he didn't see Dean. He made sure he had his gun in the back of his pants before he moved his shirt to cover it and then got out of the Impala, shutting the door behind him.

Well, at least he had an idea where they were. Another motel. He walked inside and was greeted by a young woman at the desk who smiled kindly. "You look a bit lost. Can I help you?"

Sam smiled back and then nodded. "I sure hope so. Is there a…" Sam paused, trying to think of all the aliases his brother might use. "John Plant here by any chance?"

The young woman looked at Sam with a playful smirk. "I'm not sure I can give away that information. Might I see your ID? If you're a relation, I can give you the room number and you can go right up."

He sighed inwardly, wishing he had the same charm his older brother had with women. Dean could just flash them flirty smiles and they melted for him. Sam hadn't inherited that same charming personality. He just nodded and rummaged in his pocket before he pulled out his wallet and pulled out one of his fake driver's licenses that had the same last name as Dean's fake one. "I'm his brother," he replied, as if he needed to verify.

She typed it into the computer and there was a moment when Sam feared that he'd be found out but relaxed when she nodded. "Indeed you are. You can go right up to room 23, Mr. Plant."

He took the extra room key from her and nodded politely before he hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time, still having no idea where he was. Once he opened the door, he was met with a sawed off shotgun held by his brother.

"Shit, man… you scared the crap out of me," Dean complained, relaxing a bit now before he placed the gun on the kitchen table.

Sam stiffened when he saw the gun but then also relaxed when he put it back down. "You scared me too. Hey, why the hell didn't you wake me up? I thought the apocalypse or something happened when I woke up and didn't see you," Sam walked inside the room and closed and locked the door.

Dean shrugged and then grabbed a beer out of the fridge before throwing one to Sam who caught it instinctively. "Sorry, I thought I'd let you sleep. After the whole ordeal in Topeka and then back at home, I figured you could use the rest."

Sam was relieved to see his bag already in the room. He cracked open the bottle and took a short pull from it. "Well, thanks I guess. You're just lucky that I was able to guess correctly what name you used for the room."

Dean chuckled and took a longer drink from his own beer before he fell back onto the couch in the living area. He pulled out his phone and dialed Bobby's number before he put it on speakerphone so Sam could listen in too.

"This better be important, Dean…" a gruff voice answered after the first ring.

Dean rolled his eyes. "We're here. We're in Nebraska. Tell us where you are and we can help you with the vamps."

There was a muffled yell of pain, but somehow, it reverberated throughout the motel. Sam looked around and then looked back at Dean before the two of them stood up quickly and grabbed the bag with the first aid kit. They left their room but Dean was still talking to Bobby.

"Where are you? We can hear you! You're at the same motel we are!"

Bobby groaned on the other end and Sam felt his heart sink. It was obvious he had been hurt. "Well I'll be damned if that isn't a stroke of luck! I'm in room 27."

Sam and Dean just about ran down the hall to the room and didn't even knock first before they opened the door, quickly closing and locking it behind them before they both stopped in their tracks, seeing Bobby against the wall, looking pale as a sheet and blood trailing down his arms, a bit gash in the main artery. The blood was pooling around him.

"Goddamn it, Bobby! Why didn't you call us sooner? We didn't know you were even here!" Before Bobby could respond, Dean looked at Sam. "Get the first aid kit out and then get over here!"

Sam did as he was told, his heart racing hard against his ribs. When he rushed over with the bag and the first aid kit they always carried, he saw Dean rip off his belt and then tie it around one of his arms. "Sammy, give me another belt," he ordered, making an attempt not to yell at him.

Sam rummaged through the bag and pulled out one of his own belts before he tied it around Bobby's other arm, trying to slow down the bleeding. He then pulled out the needle and thin thread without waiting to be told by his brother and set to work on closing the large gashes. He took a deep breath, feeling triggered beyond belief right now but he tried to focus.

"Sam, can you do this?" Dean asked firmly, looking his brother in the eyes.

Sam nodded surely, ignoring the nausea that was rising up within him. He didn't have a choice; he had to do this or Bobby was going to die. Dean nodded back at him and then grabbed a second needle and thread from Sam before he started to manually stitch up the other arm, so many questions running through both of their minds. It had been one of the only decent and smart things their father had taught them to do: self- stitch up wounds. Growing up it had gone without saying that any hunting related injuries stayed out of the hospital.

Both brothers focused on their task at hand and occasionally looked up at their uncle to make sure he was still breathing and this wasn't for naught. Sam was done first; he looked at his work and was surprised at how clean it looked. He had usually been the one to perform the self-stitching on both of them when it came down to it. Sam had had a lot of practice. He applied a handful of antiseptic on the stitching and then bandaged it before looking over at his brother's handiwork.

"Dean, you need to try and hurry up. Do you want me to do the rest?" He asked, trying to remain calm considering the situation.

Dean glanced back at Sam, fear full in his eyes. "No! Damn it, I can do this!" He yelled in a shaky voice, doing his best to make sure his fingers didn't tremble too badly.

Sam watched him and swallowed hard. It wasn't as clean of a stitch as he had done but the important part was that it closed the skin tightly and the artery had barely been nicked on that arm. He chewed on his nails as he watched his brother, feeling more and more nervous by the second. He waited until Dean had finished his and then passed him the antiseptic and the bandages.

"Now what?" Dean asked his younger brother.

"W-We need to get blood into him. He's lost a lot and even though he stopped bleeding, i-it could've been enough to send him into shock. We need to pump our blood into him, make an IV," Sam instructed.

He dug further into the bag and then pulled out two plastic tubes with a point on the end of each and then handed one to Dean before he tapped Bobby's forearm hard with two fingers and found a bulging vein. He exhaled as he punctured the vein with the sharp point and then injected the other end into himself, taping it there, wincing slightly.

Dean mimicked Sam's actions and soon enough they were both pumping their blood into Bobby Singer. The two boys were silent as they did this, kneeling in front of the older man. Sam could still feel his heart racing but he tried not to give into the panic he felt.

"How do we even know this is going to work, Sam?"

Sam looked over at his brother. "It has to work, Dean. It has to… we'll know if it's working in a few more minutes. Just let me know when you're getting lightheaded, okay?"

Dean nodded, not about to argue with someone who's had more medical experience than himself. The only thing he knew was using the belt as a tourniquet. That was pretty much the beginning and end of his medical expertise, though.

Sam and Dean both sat down and watched their blood pump through the tubing and enter Bobby's body. He could see Dean begin to pale slightly and the color coming back to Bobby. He nudged his brother now, feeling confident about what he had done.

"Dean, look! It's working! It's working… here, carefully take out the tube and slap a bandage on it. You need to get some juice in you and lay down for a bit," Sam instructed.

"Yes, Dr. Winchester…" Dean mocked weakly before he pulled the tube out quickly and then bandaged off the small hole.

"Hey, knock that off until we can get him better. Then you can joke around all you want," Sam replied, sighing as he felt himself becoming weaker.

Dean went into the kitchen part and grabbed the large plastic container of orange juice before he brought it over and took a long drink out of it, trying to replenish himself. He set it down between them and watched as Sam looked back at him. "You okay, man? You're not going to pass out or anything?"

Sam honestly wasn't sure what was going to happen; all he knew was that he needed to get his blood into Bobby and pray there wouldn't be a bad reaction. They were the same blood in their heart, as far as the three of them were concerned but if their blood type actually was a match; that was another issue. "I'm fine… just drink up. His color's coming back so… I think that's a pretty good sign."

"What do we do if something happens?"

Sam shook his head. "It's not going to. We need to stay positive. We can't afford to think like that right now…"

Dean nodded and then a small smirk reached the corner of his lips. "This is a first, you acting like the big brother and stepping up and taking charge. I like it…"

Sam smiled softly, feeling his heart swell at his older brother's approval and pride. "Yeah, not sure if you should get used to it though. I didn't have much of a choice when you don't know how to stitch up wounds or make a makeshift IV into someone's arm."

Dean took another swig of juice and chuckled. "Excuse me, Nurse Samuel. I'm sorry I can't just take a needle and thread and sew someone's artery back together like sewing on a button. Surgery is not my area of expertise. Kicking demons' asses and vanquishing spirits is my forte."

Sam chuckled too and then looked back at Bobby who looked halfway normal again. His color had come back to his skin and lips and he groaned slightly.

"I really hope it's you two idjits and I'm not trapped with the vamps…"

"Relax, Bobby. It's just us. I'm surprised you were able to even call us when you did. You'd be dead if you hadn't picked up that phone…" Dean spoke, passing the juice off to Sam after he separated the tube from both himself and from Bobby.

Sam bandaged the spot. "Take it easy. Tell us what happened…"

Bobby sighed and looked around his room, as if he was taking it in for the first time or perhaps he even forgot where he was. He sat up, groaning in pain and looked between both brothers. "I found their hideout spot. They have a little girl, and I booked it the hell out of there as fast as I could once I saw she was still alive. I didn't think they sensed me but when I got here, they were already waiting for me. Two of them jumped me, and I tried to fight back. I threw silver at them and it deterred them for a bit, but then they clawed both my arms open. I thought for sure they were going to suck me dry right then and there."

Sam looked over at Dean. "It was a warning," he said surely now. When Dean nodded in affirmation, he continued. "We need to get that little girl back from them."

"What do you suggest, Lestat? We can just go walking in there with weapons but we can't exactly blend in either. We'll all get killed if we go in firing…"

Bobby reached across Sam and grabbed the orange juice. He took a long, thirsty drink from the container before setting it back down. "They do their hunting at night. If we can just get one alone, maybe we can work out our plan from there to help free the girl."

Sam looked at Dean who nodded in agreement but his eyes were laced with apprehension. He felt nervousness in the pit of his own stomach. The three of them were quiet as they all tried to think a plan through.

"What if we stalked one of them around town and see where they go? Then we can corner it and make it tell us something useful," Dean suggested.

"All three of us? I think at least one of us should stay at the hideout and be there to protect the girl," Sam put in.

Dean gave him a sarcastic look and nodded, tonguing his cheek. "Yeah, that's a great idea, Sam. What you're suggesting is suicide! I get that you're battling your own demons right now, man, but now isn't the time to be a martyr!"

Sam couldn't help but feel a tinge of hurt at his brother's remark. He swallowed hard and gave him a hard look. "I'm not trying to be a martyr, Dean! I'm just trying to keep that little girl in there alive!"

His brother looked at him with anger in his eyes. "You won't be doing her any good by getting murdered by a pack of vamps! You're good but you're good enough to handle nine vamps by yourself! Don't try to kid yourself, Sam!"

Sam would've jumped across and tackled his brother if Bobby hadn't shoved the both of them away from each other. He looked at the two of them in disbelief. "Are you two kidding me right now? Since when did you two start ripping each other apart instead of working together as a team? What the hell is wrong with you boys?"

Hearing Bobby yell and be his normal self brought both brothers back to the gravity of the situation. Sam caught a look Dean shot his way but he tried not to retaliate. He swallowed back his anger but was determined to do anything he could to help the girl. He looked at Bobby.

"You better let me stay behind to protect that girl because I'll never forgive either of you if they decided to suck her blood and rip her apart," he growled, trying not to yell and keep his head at the same time.

Bobby looked over at Dean. "It's just one vamp. Do you think you can handle it by yourself, Dean? I'll stay behind with Sam."

Dean nodded and shrugged. "Sounds like a plan. Looks like I'm stalking me a vampire. I'm going to go get the gear."

Sam waited until he saw his brother disappear from sight as he walked back to their room before he looked back at Bobby. "You sure you're going to up for fighting the vamps today? Look at you, Bobby. We had to sew up both your arms. Are you even going to be able to hold a gun up?"

His uncle shot him a cold look. "You best be careful the next words that come out of your mouth, boy," he warned. "I'll be just fine. I'm only backup for you in case they attack the girl. The goal is to try and wait until Dean comes back with information after he tortures the solo vampire. I don't want you even thinking about going out there as long as they don't touch her, Sam. Do you understand me?"

Sam sighed but nodded, knowing it was useless to argue with Bobby. Even when he was injured, the man was still strong enough to overpower him. He finished up the orange juice and cleaned up the mess they had all left behind. The last thing they needed was housekeeping coming into this room and seeing a bloody mess. He helped Bobby stand and then helped get some water into him. About fifteen minutes later, Dean had arrived with the bag of weapons.

"Are we ready?" He asked, setting the bag down and looking between the two of them.

Sam looked at Bobby before nodding once. "Let's go save that girl." He grabbed the bag and started to carry it out of the room, followed by his brother and uncle. They all got into the Impala and let Bobby lead them towards the vampire hideout, anxiety and nervousness radiating throughout Sam the entire way.


End file.
